Keep Moving Backward
by Omagdi
Summary: Lewis is starting his new life and is facing a new set of challenges, failures, and self-doubts. But what happened to Goob? Lewis, unknowingly, changed Mike from the bowler hat guy to something far more menacing.
1. Self Doubt

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy the story. Please leave criticism and feedback. I hope to make an enjoyable story that captures the mood and atmosphere of Meet the Robinsons while exploring the history of the lovable family of the future. I now present to you:

_**Keep Moving Backward** _

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

He told himself he would get rid of the name Lewis as a symbol of his fresh start, but he found himself oddly attached to his old name. It was the one Mildred gave him on the night she found him on the orphanage's door step. When alone, he called himself Lewis. With his newly acquired family, he preferred his new name Cornelius.

So many wonderful things happened since he was adopted. He had his own room, his own lab, and his own zany, loving parents. He was taught how to be a "Robinson".

_Don't be afraid to be yourself…_

_Never be afraid of failure or else you'll never succeed…_

_Learn from your mistakes…_

These new lessons were a breath of fresh air compared to his schooling. In fact, he was taken out of the elementary school and put into a more challenging independent study. If he successfully completed his studies, he would start college in two years. A positive benefit of independent study was that he had more free time to work on his own projects. Lewis no longer had to be forced to learn at the snail's pace of his peers.

He softly pressed the end of his pencil into his lips as he thought about his next invention. His thoughts were interrupted by an excited Bud.

"Bake them' cookies, Lucille!"

He could hear his new parents downstairs having one of their famous "cookie baking" sessions. The two would dance to music as they waited for their cookies to be finished. It was their way of "burning off their cake and eating it too". As he sensed an intimate moment was taking place between them, he stayed upstairs in his lab to give them privacy. The couple were still adjusting to life with their new son, and he understood they sometimes needed their alone time.

Lewis made a few slight adjustments to his newest invention he was working on; the Mini-Carl. He was inspired by their elegance when they served the Robinson family and himself spaghetti; back when Wilbur whisked him away to the future. The young inventor decided it would be easier and more cost effective to create one of the miniature Carl's before building the actual Carl. The blonde wired up the circuit board and tightened up the bolts of his new robot. When he turned on the power, the miniature Carl took two steps forward…and then seemed to become stuck.

Sparks began to emit from the tiny robot and the boy ducked for cover as the robot's sparks began to jump dangerously closer to him. A couple minutes passed when he no longer heard the mechanical and electrical mayhem above him. He crawled out from under his desk to assess the damage. He saw his whole work station was in ruins. The Mini-Carl he worked so hard on was burned to a crisp.

Lewis screwed up again. This was the third prototype to fail. He threw his wrench in frustration and sighed. Those same self-doubts were still plaguing him. What if seeing the future was all a dream? What if it never happened? When he thought about it, time travel was still only a theoretical idea. And it violated everything the scientific community accepted. And how could he, with no experience, possibly been able to fix the broken time machine fast enough to save his life? He looked up above at the bright blue skies above the expansive windows of his laboratory as if looking for a sign.

_At least Wilbur could visit me._

Lewis went in his chair and slumped. He just could not invent the way he used to. All these doubts about his abilities and the future were going to drive him crazy until there was some resolution.

_Keep Moving Forward…._

Remembering that motto, he was able to gather enough resolve to place himself back at his disheveled work desk. He looked at his designs of the Mini-Carl to see what the possible problem might have been. He chewed his pencil as he thought of what edits to make next. It would be the third pencil he went through this Saturday morning.

Lewis would never admit it, but he sometimes was too proud to seek advice and other people's perspectives. He supposed it was because he was so used to being more knowledgeable and intelligent about life than most adults. Should he ask Lucille and Bud for advice? Would they even know what to tell him?

He heard the two exclaim as their dance ended the exact same time the timer for the oven went off. A few seconds later, Lewis could smell the aroma of the cookies.

"Cornelius, cookies! Come down and get some!" Lucille called.

"Okay, mom." Lewis took the opportunity to take a break. Possibly, a break would clear his head. Besides, the young genius was beginning to get hungry. He went downstairs and found the duo already had a plate ready for him.

"You've been up there all day, did ya' invent something special?" Bud asked him.

"Well…"

Lucille raised her hand. "Oooooh, I bet it's something special. Maybe a battery powered by piezoelectricity? Automatic sandwich maker? Oh, oh, oh! Solving the famous P Equals NP!"

"No, I wasn't able to get anything accomplished today."

The boy looked down at the table in guilt. He couldn't even look them in the eye. He felt he failed them.

Lucille and Bud looked at each other.

"Oh," Lucille said and put her hand in front of her face. She always did that when she was concerned or worried. Bud reacted in a similar matter. Lewis looked up at his two new parents. Both were staring directly toward him. He was the sole focus of their attention.

"Sweetie, I think I and Bud know exactly what you are going through. Do you feel you doubting yourself? Or do you feel like you never can top what you did at the fair?"

"Sort of," Lewis looked down at his plate of cookies. He noticed he didn't touch a single cookie yet, "but…"

"You can tell us, son." Bud smiled at him, "We're listening."

"I kind of feel the only reason I was adopted because I did well at the science fair. I'm afraid if I don't keep inventing these things that I will be given up. And, and…"

At that instant both his parents embraced him. The pain and fair of being given up and rejected was brought to the surface. And could they blame him for such thoughts? At the orphanage, this happened to him so many times before. Their beautiful, ingenious child expected himself to be sent back if he didn't keep inventing. It didn't occur to the child that people would want him because of _who_ he was and not _what_ he created. He did not seem to understand what unconditional love was, because he was never given it. Upon realizing this, Lucille hugged him even tighter. She could only imagine.

"We would never give you up. Even if you don't invent another single thing in your lifetime. We love you so much. You are ours forever."

"We weirdos have to stick together," Bud winked at him.

Lewis let himself melt in his parent's group hug. He never wanted to let them go, never wanted them to let go of him. If he could only have one wish, it would be for this moment of warmth to last forever. To know he was loved just for himself gave him a newfound comfort beyond words. Lewis's stomach growled and he felt Bud and Lucille's grip loosen.

"Better eat those cookies mister." Bud said.

Lewis complied.


	2. Goob's Story

Lewis left about two months ago. Goob's room was quieter without the hammering, sauntering, and blowtorching of his former roommate. He was happy to have a full night's rest, but the boy had the strangest feeling. Goob almost was yearning for his old roommate to come back. Lewis's absence struck a chord within him. It was the same feeling he had after his ailing grandmother brought him to the orphanage when he was four years old. What was this feeling? And why did this feeling keep him awake?

Mike looked up at the desk Lewis often occupied at this late hour and groaned. He got himself out of the covers and quietly sauntered down the hall to Mildred's room. He didn't want to wake the other children up. He would never hear the end of it from them and Mildred if he did.

He knocked softly on Mildred's door. About a few seconds later, Mildred opened the door.

"Mike," she frowned disapprovingly, "it is way past your bed time."

"That never stopped Lewis," Goob looked at the ground and then back up at Mildred, "can I talk to you Mildred? I cannot go to sleep. I have this weird feeling and it doesn't feel good."

Mildred could tell the child was having a tough time. She opened the door wider and motioned him to come inside. A wordless exchange took place between the two as both went inside.

"I will get the Chair of Confession." Mildred scurried to the other side of the room and brought out a fabulously comfortable chair. This chair was so soft that the children often slept on it after a rough emotional outburst.

Lewis himself used the Chair of Confession so often when he was here in the twelve years he lived there. Now, his roommate was here.

"You know Ms. M, I thought I would love not having Lewis as a roommate. Then, he's gone. And then I want him to come back. He was a geek, but he was fun to watch and listen to."

Mildred smiled, "You miss him. The feeling you have is called 'longing'."

"How do I stop this feeling?"

"You can't. You just have to move on with your own life."

"This is not fair! Why do people have to leave me all the time?" Goob curled up his fists, shut his eyes, and began to cry, "First my mom then my dad, then my grandmother. Now Lewis. You will leave me, everyone will leave me, and I will have nothing and nobody left."

Mildred quickly went to embrace him. The small child clutched onto her chest as he sobbed.

"You have lots of new friends, Mike. Don't be upset, please. I have some good news for you. I was going to tell you in the morning but I can tell you right now. Just please stop."

The child sniffled, regained his composure enough to meekly say, "Okay."

"You have an adoption interview tomorrow. This couple is incredibly interested in you. The man is the head of the company that sponsors your sports team. When he saw you win the game while basically sleeping, he was so impressed he wanted to speak to your parents. When he realized you didn't have parents, he immediately called me."

Goob looked at Mildred like she was a god send. He briefly forgot about the past and his current hardships. Hope, an emotion desperately seeking nourishment, overtook his consciousness. His eyes grew wide. The child jumped out of the Chair of Confession. He could barely contain himself as he gave Mildred the biggest hug his small body could muster.

"Thank you, Mildred," he looked up at her with bright eyes.

"You're welcome. Lewis got a new beginning. I know you will get yours."


	3. Revenge

Author's Note: Thank you for your reviews. I apologize if this story seems to be going slow or might seem rushed at times, but it will pick up and get more interesting. I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter Three: Echoes of the Past**

****= = = _/_o _\_ = = = ****

_Year: 2019_

_Location: North America_

It was the International Emerging Technologies Conference. It was an extravagant event where the top researchers and companies in the world presented the best fruits of their labor. It was a prestigious event that was invitation only.

A good looking young man with dark Slavic features looked walked beside a pudgy, balding older man. The two made quite the couple. The older man, Williams, was the CEO of Inventco and the young man was his adopted son. They were one of the main sponsors of the conference, and they looked at all the presentations for something extraordinary.

The jolly fat man paraded around at the different booths, "Michael, my son, all these technologies are the same thing. Same thing every year."

"I know. People only come here for the food." Mike sarcastically said as he bit into one of the catered sandwiches. It was eleven years ago that he was adopted by his father the head of InventCo. Mike was now a startling handsome man. Tall, dark, and handsome Mike always had young women swooning over him. Despite this, he always rejected their advances. It left many to speculate where his heart truly lied.

He then heard a beautiful song. Music? That was peculiar. What company would make inventions for music? There was no money in that industry for new inventions. A crowd of people were gathered, and he was bored enough to explore anything new. He wandered toward the music.

"Michael?" Williams asked.

"Dad, come with me." He gently grabbed his father's hand and pushed through the crowd. He went through the path of least resistance; a group of the society of women engineers. A couple of women smiled at him as he weaved through the crowd, "May I go through?"

The ladies nodded and instantly parted. He let out a charming smile, "Thank you kindly."

When he and his father at the front, they were met with an unusual sight. A group of frogs were sitting on a little podium looking at their owner eagerly.

"Someone must have a screw loose," Williams nudged his son, "huh?"

"This I've got to see."

A gorgeous young woman, who rivaled even Mike in his natural beauty, was directing a group of frogs to sing, "Ladies and gentleman, I give you our next song," she turned to her amphibians, "ready guys? One, two, and go!"

A small group of frogs played instruments. The room began to swing in the rhythm of lively jazz music.

_You asked me over, and over and over  
>Have you seen my peacock-feathered hat?<br>If it was under a four-leaf clover  
>I'd be on the lawn looking for that<em>

A couple of patrons were beginning to dance. The crowd seemed energized by the unexpected spectacle. Mike and his adoptive father stood in mesmerized silence at the display.

_Where is your heart at?  
>Nobody knows that,<em>

_Even though you've him, her, me, and an army searching  
>I've got a feeling, you will be reeling<br>When you are bad and the circus comes to town  
>And you'll see me leaving dressed up as a magician or something like that.<em>

Mike then saw another young man such as himself in a lab coat standing beside the small stage of singing frogs. His spiky, blond hair and his blue eyes gleamed behind thick spectacles. Suddenly, the whole world and music around Mike became a huge blur. Was that who he thought it was? His heart raced as he knew without a doubt who this was. He could feel the excitement building up inside him.

_Where is your heart at?_

"Lewis!" Mike joyfully called out interrupting the song. The young man in the lab coat looked to see who had the nerve to interrupt his presentation. His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he scanned the crowd, but then eyes grew wide with surprise when he spotted Mike.

"Goob?"

Mike shook his head gleefully while giving a wide grin. Lewis took a couple steps forward but then gathered enough evidence to be sure that this was his former roommate and friend. He then ran up to him.

"Mike!" the two young men gave each other an intense hug, "I missed you so much."

"Cornelius is this an old friend?" Frannie asked.

"Yeah," the young Cornelius turned back to his friend, "Wow, look at you! You've really grown into a handsome young man."

"You too."

Frannie put her hands on Cornelius's shoulders, "Honey, your presentation? People are going to ask questions."

Cornelius shook his head, "Mike, don't go anywhere. I'll talk to you after I finish this."

His former roommate and friend nodded in understanding, "Alright, I'll wait."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

"-the frogs cells were injected with new genetic information. These cells divided and created new neurons. This has applications for helping people with neurological disorders. Robinson Industries is planning treatments in the next few months. The frogs were just for show."

Mike was incredibly happy to see his friend and realized how much he missed him. After a long separation who knew that Lewis would show up here? Mike sincerely missed his friend's rants on concepts far beyond his grasp. Mike found the intellect displayed by Lewis fascinating and magnetic.

Williams decided to stay behind with Frannie and talk about the frogs while Mike went on a walk to catch up with his long lost friend.

"I always knew a geek like you would turn out to be some mega-genius."

Lewis slapped his head, "And I would never have known you would be adopted by the CEO of Inventco. My mom Lucille Robinson works there."

"Small world."

"So, enough about me," Cornelius put a hand on Mike's shoulder, "what do you do for a living?"

"I am actually in training so I can one day own the company. My father isn't getting any younger. He's actually aging rapidly," Mike said, "Maybe we can merge Robinson industries and Inventco one day."

Cornelius put his hand on his chin, "I'll consider it. But no promises."

"Just don't compete with Inventco, and I won't go Machiavelli on you."

"Agreed."

The air around the conference room began to suddenly get frigid.

"Wow, someone really put on the air conditioning," Mike joked but stopped when Lewis didn't laugh along with him.

The inventor looked around carefully, "Something is wrong."

"What?"

"Look," he pointed toward the ceiling where ice began to form, "cold air sinks not rises. This is unnatural."

"An invention gone wrong?"

"There isn't an invention around that can break a law of thermodynamics. And there isn't one that exists yet that can cool air so rapidly."

"What is it then, Lewis?"

"I don't know."

Mike then became alarmed. If a genius such as Lewis did not know then it must be something serious. He pulled out his cell phone, "I'll call security and ask them to get ready for a possible evacuation of the building just in case."

"Good idea." Cornelius then ran toward, "I'm going to get Frannie and your father. I'll be right back."

Mike began to dial for security but when he opened his mouth and noticed he could see his breath. When he went to look back up at the ceiling he was startled to see the ice slowly creeping downward along the windows. Other people in the conference were starting to take notice. Whispers echoed throughout the room.

_What's going on?_

_Did something leak?_

A gust of wind suddenly intensified the cold, frigid air. It swirled and icicles began to rapidly form on the ceiling. The gust was so strong that it blew the cell phone out of Mike's hands. He began to pursue the phone when he heard a large crack. The icicles on the ceiling began to wiggle. Then, one of the smallest ones fell and broke a nearby statue. The rest of them soon followed.

Screams rang out as the icicles started to rain down upon the attendees below. Mass mayhem engulfed the once quiet and orderly room as the scientists rushed to avoid being hit or worse, impaled, by the falling chunks of ice.

Mike stopped his pursuit of the phone and concentrated on getting cover. He hoped his loved ones already took shelter. Mike found shelter at a nearby booth near the end of the hall.

Mike heard a startled cry coming from his left. His heart jumped in his throat as he figured out who the scream belonged to.

"Lewis!" Mike shouted. He heard the cries continue. Using a chair beside him as a shield from the ice, he dashed from his protected spot with all the energy he could muster toward the cries. He turned a couple corners but managed to find Lewis.

A portal of some type seemed to be dragging the inventor into regions unknown. The force of it was so strong that the genius was hopelessly struggling against its pull. The inventor grunted as he attempted to inch his way upward. Cornelius was obviously in distress. The scientist's eyes met Michael's.

"Mike!" The inventor called out desperately as the force pried one of his hands from the carpet. Mike wasted no time and went to grab his friend's hand.

Yet, even with Mike's strength, the vortex still was intense. Was it just him or was it getting stronger? It was obvious someone waited until Cornelius was alone to release this vortex. Mike knew that much. If someone wanted to get to Cornelius so bad to risk other people's lives and instill mass danger to get him alone, then it was the upmost importance he protect Lewis. Whoever sent this vortex was a lunatic. Pure and simple. Lewis must not get into their hands.

Mike continued to struggle, but it was no use. Both Cornelius and himself inched ever closer to the portal's voracious opening.

"Mike," Cornelius looked up at him, "I just figured out this vortex is locked onto me genetically and not to you. The longer I escape its pull, the stronger it gets. I know that, statistically, there is a zero chance I will escape."

"What are you saying, Lewis? You're seriously not suggesting I let you go?"

"That is exactly what I am suggesting," Cornelius closed his eyes, "There is no sense in you being sucked in too."

"How can someone so smart be so stupid?" Mike narrowed his eyes at the smaller man, "I'm not leaving you alone."

Cornelius let his hand go. Mike gasped as he saw Cornelius accelerate away from him. He couldn't believe Lewis just did that.

"You dweeb. You stupid, dweeb!"

Mike catapulted himself and managed to latch onto his dearest friend. Cornelius said nothing. He only closed his eyes in preparation of being swallowed. It was nice to have such a good friend as Mike.

_I hope you're ready because there is no telling what is on the other side…_


	4. Echoes of the Past

Author's Note: Sorry, it's been a while. As a computer science major, I've been ultra busy, but I hope to be making more consistent posts from now on. Please leave feedback and criticisms. What you like and don't like. I will use this feedback to make a better story.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, _April 15th 3:00pm_, Robinson Lawn  
><em>

Wilbur laid himself out on the grass and looked at the expansive skies at his home. It was a year and a half since he last took the time machine, without permission, to fix his mistake. He just got _ungrounded_ from that and so he found himself struggling to catch up on his social life. The punishment his parents gave him was eerily similar to social isolation.

It severely affected his social life. His usual friends no longer wanted to hang out with the "grounded kid". His popularity seemed to fall faster than the speed of light. With no friends besides the study nerds who hung out at the library all afternoon, he found himself bored.

"What do people do after they get out of prison?" Wilbur asked himself.

"They become productive and law abiding citizens." Wilbur heard from behind him. He looked up to see his favorite android with his hands on his hips.

"Carl, it's the afternoon. Aren't you supposed to be helping dad in the lab?"

"I would, but he is gone."

"Gone?" Wilbur got up. That got his attention. His dad never strayed from his schedule. If he would leave the house outside of schedule, he would tell Carl. This has never happened in the history of the Robinson household.

"And something, obviously, has happened to the time stream," Carl said, "Come to the garage, you need to see it to believe it."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:00pm, Aunt Billie's Train Station._

Michael Williams slowly sauntered around the Robinson household. There was no invitation or anything of the sort. Goob broke in through the garage door and successfully navigated himself, undetected, to the train station. Before he went further, he let out a jamming signal that halted all communication devices. It was a successful piece of technology Inventco made for the military two decades ago. While it was an older invention, it definitely wasn't outdated at the very least.

None of the usual alarms were able to communicate to the household that there was an unwelcomed guest. Although the worst thing that the Robinsons would do to an intruder such as himself would be firing him out of the meatball cannon into the grand yonder.

Little did most know, a train station, which was housed inside the Robinson home, had direct access to almost all the areas in Robinson Industries. It transported workers to any location and was managed by Aunt Billie; the aunt of Cornelius Robinson. She was slender with frizzy brown hair and wore a pretty, blue dress. Given her obsession with trains, she was the first to be asked to be the operator for Cornelius's increasingly expanding company.

Michael was unaware of this touching family history, but he was aware that only she could take him to his desired place, "Excuse me, madam. Can you take me to the time lab?" He said after he walked into the station.

"To the lab of time? Not sure why you need to go there. Tell me, please?" Her thick accent traveled throughout the station as she calmly poised herself; waiting for an answer for this mysterious stranger.

"I am giving an upgrade for the robot receptionist at the entrance of the lab. My name is Kirk, and I should be expected."

"Ah, Kirk," Aunt Billie smiled, "It is so nice to finally meet you in person. Handsome man, you are. Too bad I'm already taken. Cornelius speaks of you highly," she then pointed to the train sitting idle in the middle of the room, "go into my little beauty, and she will take you to where you need to go."

Michael let out an awkward smile, "Ah, yes. Thank you very much." He walked and hoisted himself onto the train and put out a thumbs up to let the conductor know he was ready. She, at the sight of the cue, went to the main panel.

"One more thing, Kirk, to cure that foot fungus you were talking about you need to rub some guano onto it! Take care, and Keep Moving Forward!"

Michael put on a disgusted look as he faced away from Aunt Billie. He didn't know whether if it was due to the sensitive condition of Kirk or the family motto.

She slammed her fist onto the panel's go button. Instantly, the train accelerated quickly toward the time lab. By the time he was finished with his mission here, Cornelius's cherished motto would forever change.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:10pm, The Robinson Garage_

Wilbur tentatively followed Carl to the garage. The android's usual, calm strides were replaced by a subtly quickened pace. Wilbur might not have the extraordinary intellect and talents his father was endowed with, but he did have an extremely strong social intelligence. This social intelligence was much more potent than his father's. Wilbur might not be able to figure out _things_ but he could figure out _people_. Carl, modeled after a human, was no different.

He could feel himself become tense as the mood didn't seem right. The usual active and cheerful atmosphere of the Robinson household was waned. There were none of the usual exploits of the family on the front lawn. In fact, the family seemed strangely absent.

He definitely knew something was amiss when he passed by the front porch and Spike and Dimitri did not pester him to ring their respective doorbell. Usually, the twins could hear him a mile away. Wilbur knew, in reality, there was no difference between each twin's doorbell. Each button was wired to the same speaker that alerted their butler to answer the door. Cornelius made this doorbell after Spike and Dimitri ran amok in the entire Robinson household with their loud, yet pointless competition.

Based on Spike and Dimitri's competitive nature, Wilbur guessed Spike and Dimitri belonged to his mother's side of the family; the Framagucii's. The Robinson side wasn't very competitive in nature and tended to be the more eccentric part of the two very odd families.

It was then that the duo approached the garage.

"Wait, Carl, what's this all about?"

"Well, let's see what's behind door number one," the android pressed a button on his wrist and the majestic doors to the Robinson garage began to slide open.

The boy took a deep breath and prepared himself. The garage was, simply put, a mess. The travel tubes were in shambles almost as if there was a major struggle that took place. Wilbur absorbed the sight, and the knot in his stomach grew tighter. He noticed all the little details that would skip most people. How the books and papers fell, how the window was broken… In his mind, he could accurately picture the struggle as someone managed to break into the garage and open the door to the Robinson living room. This person now had access to the _entire_ Robinson household and thus Robinson industries.

"Carl, let's get mom and tell her what happened," Wilbur said, not too keen on being grounded a second time as he just finished his first one. He learned the consequences of taking something into his own hands.

"We can't. She has a business trip," the bot said.

"What about, dad? Are you sure we can't find him?"

"Oh, so now you try to do the sensible thing. It's never good enough to listen to the robotic friend with the infinite amount of wisdom-"

"Carl, I'm serious!"

"So am I little buddy," Carl dropped his façade and then looked at the teenager, "I can't establish contact with anyone."

The teenage boy looked at Carl as if not understanding what his friend was saying.

_Can't contact anyone? _

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:15pm, Entrance of Time Lab_

The train arrived at its destination, Cornelius Robinson's time lab. This lab was the most heavily secured part of Robinson industries. Usually, sneaking in to steal the time machine would be an impossible proposal. But Michael, thanks to his adoptive father's fortune, managed to pay off Robinson employees to give him valuable information.

It was sad really. These employees were Cornelius's most trusted colleagues and friends. Money had a way of quickly shifting loyalties. Expect for Cornelius himself. Michael learned this back when they were considered friends.

To think that he and Cornelius were friends so long ago made him physically ill. He cringed at the thought.

"_Lewis, how could you do this?" a younger Mike and Cornelius Robinson were sitting in the same room together. The younger man bit his lower lip, "We're buds, right?"_

"_I'm sorry, Mike, but the future cannot have any more barriers to progress. I have to do this. It's not about us, it's about the future. I have to Keep Moving Forward."_

He stopped himself as that motto kept echoing throughout his mind. These memories were so painful. He would have his revenge on Lewis. He just needed to have all the time in the world.

He passed the entrance and jogged toward the vault. He brought out a small, pocket sized device called a dissembler. This small machine ripped apart anything metallic and reduced it to a matter of shreds. This small device was supposed to be in the vault of failed inventions of Cornelius Robinson. The dissembler had a habit of taking apart everything; including the other valuable inventions. Money, once again, aided Michael in obtaining this object. Unlike Cornelius, he saw value in this invention.

It would be useful making an alternative path to his desired destination. He held the device firmly into his hands and then fired.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:20pm, The Robinson Garage_

"Why do you think a person broke in? And where would they go?" Carl asked.

"Alright, let's just consider all the possibilities for a moment." Wilbur said and put a hand on his chin, "Maybe they just wanted to borrow a cup of sugar?" the teenager suggested while glancing thoughtfully at his companion.

"He just couldn't wait for that," Carl said sarcastically as he pointed to the massive amount of damage, "Next. Possibility number two is?"

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:30pm, Time Lab Machine: Security Section 2_

Michael just had to go through a couple more rooms of Robinson industries to bypass the most difficult of the security. In his mind, he memorized the route needed to get to the main vault where the time machine was housed. Even though he took the easier route, there was still some resistance from Cornelius's robots. He viciously took down each robot that dared cross his path. He was covered in oil and grease of his victims as he ran. He was a man with a mission. He used his seething anger to further propel in into the furthest confines of the laboratory.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:45pm, The Robinson Garage_

Wilbur was getting tired. He drank some water before beginning a new, "Maybe the cat was getting revenge from the family dog for chasing her?"

"Nope, nada, and next," Carl groaned, "This is taking too long."

"What did I say about complaining? Robinson's are not complainers. Now, what possibility are we at?"

"Number three hundred and fifty."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:47pm, The Time Lab: Time Machine_

Michael ran his hand alongside a greenish, boomerang like machine. The time machine was beautiful and he, once again, was in awe of the genius of his former friend. Unfortunately, Cornelius's own genius would be the inventor's ultimate downfall.

"Let's take you for a spin."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, April 15th 3:54pm, The Robinson Garage_

Wilbur and Carl both sprawled on the ground trying to regain their breath. Both had just undergone about four hundred different possibilities in total. All of them were shot down. It was difficult to cram that many words into such a small amount of time which proved to be a formidable workshop.

"Four hundred and on-"

A large noise jolted the duo upward.

"What was that?" both said at once.

Wilbur looked at the tubes carefully where the sound was coming from. The travel tubes in the room had massive gaps. He didn't remember them being _that_ damaged. Yet he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the tube was slowly shrinking; its particles ran off of it like sand running out of an hourglass. The boy then was startled to hear another noise, and he saw the floor had changed into a different pattern.

"Carl, why is the room is rearranging itself?"

The android immediately gasped and took out a shiny metallic object from his utility belt.

"What is," Wilbur looked at the object suspiciously and then pointed, "that?"

"A time lock belt," the android went to put it on Wilbur, "now hold still."

"No way! That thing is ugly! I am already low enough on the social totem pole at school. This belt will put me underground!"

"Gee, you know, I don't think that matters so much."

"I'm a teenager, Carl. This is the world to me!"

"The time stream is changing," Carl put his hands on Wilbur's shoulders and began shaking the kid for emphasis, "If you don't put the belt on, you're going to disappear!"

The teen suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He disappeared before, and it was one of the most painful experiences he ever had. He relived the experience of his atoms rearranging themselves into the new reality of Doris's time stream. And then darkness. The pitch blackness of sleep. The mode of nonexistence. To go through that again…

"Snap out of it," Carl slapped him.

Wilbur grabbed onto his face as he was woken up from his reverie, "What?"

"You know, I think the belt looks stunning on you, Wilbur Robinson."

Wilbur looked down to see the robot already snapped the belt on his waist, "Hey!" the teen cried out, "That wasn't fair. I was in a flashback." He looked down to the ground and rubbed his arm.

"Wilbur, we'll have to take the prototype time machine to find what is happening."

"You mean?" Wilbur's eyes began to sparkle.

"Are you ready for another adventure?"

"Well, what are we waiting for, let's find it. Wilbur Robinson is always up for some adventure. And this time I won't even be grounded for it."

Carl slammed his hand on his face, "You never learn do you?"

"Nope, and that's why I get bad grades in school," the teenager proudly proclaimed. Man and machine then gave each other a fist bump, "let's do this."


	5. Boy Meets Boy And Android

Author's Note: I hope you enjoy the story. Please leave criticism and feedback. I hope to make an enjoyable story that captures the mood and atmosphere of Meet the Robinsons while exploring the history and personalities of the lovable family of the future.

_**Keep Moving Backward** _

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Chapter Five: Boy Meets Boy (and Android) **_

Year: 2007, Robinson Residence 12:13pm

Lewis wandered around the grassy fields that surrounded his new home; unaware that his future son Wilbur would sky gaze in the very spot he stood. And, never in his wildest dreams, would he imagine that in the even further future that a dystopia, created by a madman with a stolen time machine, was in the process of being born.

The day was gorgeous, and Lewis was taking a break from his independent studies. Even though he seemed stuck on inventing, he was doing better than expected in his schoolwork.

He had already placed out of trigonometry, algebra II, and differentiation calculus. His goal was to place out of university calculus by the time he was thirteen which was two weeks from now.

Bud and Lucille were at their jobs. Lucille was at her job working for Inventco. The more eccentric Bud, who was a science teacher, was probably scaring his students. The Robinson residence was quieter without their presence.

_Okay,_ _it's a lot quieter_, the young genius thought.

He could see how this place could be expanded to the massive Robinson mansion that he saw in the future. The thing he was very unsure about was how the city itself would change. Basically, the city was just like every other 20th century design of boring, gray, rectangular boxes. In the future, it became something totally different. How did it get to be that way? Lewis wasn't very knowledgeable about politics or business but wouldn't there be resistance from people on the sudden, quick change?

He couldn't see himself making such a large change in such a short amount of time either. Was he really that delusional to think he could not only change the world but reality itself? Again, he began to doubt his visit to the future. _It must have been a dream, I guess._

The inventor knew that he should be getting back to work on the miniature Carl project, and he began to head back to the house. After the first disastrous test run, Lewis decided to be more careful on how to proceed.

When he came into the house, there was a sudden change in atmosphere. Lewis had the uncanny feeling that he was being watched although he tried his best to ignore this feeling. He had too much work to do, and he couldn't risk paranoia ruining his concentration. That was, until he was grabbed from behind and yanked back.

Lewis yelled and tried to pry free of the person who was holding him against his will, "Let go of me! Who are you?"

"That is an excellent question," the attack said.

"Wilbur!" Lewis's eyes opened in shock. The older boy let go of the inventor and Lewis turned around to behold the sight of his future son.

"It has been a long time, dad,"

"Wilbur, wow, you've grown an inch or two the last time I saw you!"

Wilbur let out a devilish smile, "You haven't."

Instantly, Lewis latched onto Wilbur in an intense hug. Based on how Lewis was actually managing to cut off the teen's circulation, Wilbur guessed he missed him a lot. He couldn't help but give Lewis a hug back. He forgot how adorable Lewis was as a child. Even though he was his dad, Lewis was still, first and foremost, a child.

Lewis then looked up at Wilbur, still refusing to let go, "Wait, why are you here?"

"Another excellent question."

Lewis was insanely happy to see Wilbur again. The genius didn't question Wilbur any further and followed him longingly as the elder boy looked around a couple corners of the household.

"What are you looking for?" The blond asked.

"Carl came with me. But I," Wilbur sighed as the android was nowhere in sight. He pressed an intercom attached to his wrist, "Carl, where are you?"

"The closet."

"You can come out of the closet, you know. We don't live in the dark ages."

"Oh, right," Carl spilled out of a closet that was just a few feet away from the two boys, "so did you find little Cornelius?"

"See for yourself, my good man."

"Lew-" Carl couldn't even finish a word before his creator latched onto him in a similar way he did to Wilbur. The robot couldn't pry the boy off of him. With this, Wilbur and Carl exchanged a worried look. Lewis eventually, yet reluctantly, broke free of his hold on the android.

Now that Wilbur had the inventor's undivided attention he began, "Lewis, we came here for a serious reason. The future has, well, changed."

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Wilbur rubbed his arm, "We had to leave as the timestream was turning into something…" the spiky haired teen stopped his sentence and tried to find the correct word, "bad."

"How do you know the timestream was changed in that way if you didn't stay in the future?"

"Well, you discovered a little more about time travel and timestreams, skipper. That is, before you disappeared. Actually, the whole family has disappeared. It's only me and pretty boy left."

"Yikes, do you have any idea why?"

"I had a theory the family went on a road trip and forgot about us," Wilbur said, "Carl shot that down though. Anyways, the only clue is one of the time machines was stolen. The only other one we have is here."

"I missed you little buddy. But, to explain more, you downloaded a formula in my memory. It keeps track of the time stream in real time. It also gives the chances that the stream will self-correct." Carl pressed his hands toward his mouth, "The numbers are not good."

"And here we are. And we're sorry about the short notice." Wilbur messed with Lewis's hair, "But, believe me, are we happy to see you."

Lewis looked at them, "I am so happy to see you too," but then the young inventor seemed alarmed as he heard a car pull up in the drive way, "oh no, Lucille and Bud! They're home early. I have to hide you, quick!"

The child pushed them toward the closet Carl was just in.

"Wait, Lewis," Carl said, "this closet is too small for both of us! I could barely fit myself in."

"No time," the child started to push them, "in, in, in!"

"By the way," Lewis looked at them, "I missed you so much!"

And with that the door was slammed shut followed by the sound of Lewis scampering away. The crammed duo tried to shift into a more comfortable position but to no avail. Carl looked at Wilbur who was comically close to him, "well this is uncomfortable."

"Is it just me or did you notice that dad has-"

"attachment issues."

"Yeah."

Lewis scampered to the door and slowly opened it, "False alarm. It was the mailwoman."

"If the future changed, I guess you'll be staying here." Lewis began to form the widest grin on his face as an idea occurred to him, "and that means we will do a sleepover. I'm so excited! My first ever sleepover!"

"Cornelius, it's going to be a long, long sleepover," Carl said.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

Year: 2007, Robinson Residence, Lewis's Room 2:45pm

The genius, the wise guy, and the android sat in silence in Lewis's room. The three formed a circle as they discussed what needed to be done for the other two to stay here indefinitely.

"Alright," Lewis said, "what are the rules? You first, Carl."

"Rule one, never interact with Bud or Lucille."

"Okay, now your turn Wilbur."

"Oh, right," the teen put on a sly smile, "Rule two is that, whenever you can, go to the main city and meet all the girls. Remember: saying you are from the future is a great pickup line."

Lewis gleamed to Wilbur who then sighed and added, "Rule two is to never go to the main city without Carl and you. Who knows what I'll do to screw up the timestream more than it is already."

"And, most importantly?"

"Raid the fridge at midnight because that's when everyone's asleep."

"Wilbur!" both said impatiently.

"Jesh, I kid I kid. The most important rule is to always stay in contact. That is why, I, Wilbur Robinson will bestow upon Cornelius Robinson a wristwatch communicator."

Carl said, "Yeah, I'm adding something else to this. Don't take off your timelock belt, Wilbur."

Lewis said, "I think Bud and Lucille are home this time for real. I heard a car in the driveway. Don't go anywhere, you guys. I will never be able to explain this."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

Year: 2007, Robinson Residence 3:13pm

"Hey there, son." Bud came into the house and put his coat on the rack. Lewis wandered outside his room. The child noticed the absence of his mother and thus Bud immediately added, "Lucille will be late tonight. She's working on a project at InventCo."

Lewis noticed that, on the back of Bud's head, instead of the usually drawn smile face there was a frown face drawn instead. Usually, Bud was so energetic and happy. Lewis never saw a frown face ever in the Robinson household. Still, Bud was trying to hide the rest of the picture from Lewis. Bud was also exhausted and it shone in his eyes. Bud tried to hide it that too, but Lewis knew. It was well known to the child that Bud Robinson was a biology teacher at a local high school. Lewis had the intelligence and foresight to know that something serious went on.

"Bud, what happened?"

Bud put his hand on his chin and paused for a moment as if carefully selecting his words. He was new at being a father, but he had the paternal instinct of protecting Lewis from the negativity of the world. However, both knew that Lewis could technically handle the full truth. And that Lewis would press the issue until he got an answer. Bud decided to go for a balance of the two; to tell Lewis but leave out unnecessary, negative details.

"Well, Lewis, today our class went over evolution."

"What's wrong with that? Evolution is a great triumph of biology. It's not even hard to grasp and understand so your students can't complain like they usually do."

"Sometimes, knowledge and understanding conflicts with people's beliefs. And when people's beliefs are challenged they can get hostile."

Lewis's stomach started to twist in a knot. Bud didn't draw that frown face, other people did, and against his will with permanent marker. They took his smile away, and it seemed to make all the difference in his usually upbeat father.

The blond, upon realizing what Bud meant, gave his father a hug. It was such a simple yet powerful gesture, and Bud appreciated the hug more than words could describe. There was so much this child had to give and offer. How did Lewis fail over one hundred adoption interviews? Were people really so shallow, closed minded, and cruel? Little did he know that his son was also asking himself the same question.

Did this child know how much he meant to him and Lucille? He wished Lewis could feel what they felt. It would give the budding inventor the confidence needed for him to blossom into the great genius he was.

"Lewis, remember when I said you're a special kid? I have taught and seen many students; thousands so far. I meant it and always did. You make up for those students everyday."

= = = _/_o _\_ = = =

As father and son broke their hug and went to the living room together, the two were unaware that Carl and Wilbur, were witness to the tender moment.

"I can't help but think that the person who stole the time machine is someone like those students who hurt Grandpa Bud."

Carl put on a worried look and turned his comrade, "I don't know if you want to hear this. But, according to what I'm detecting in the timestream, that person makes things like this look like child's play."


	6. Goob's Adoption

_**Chapter Six: Goob's Adoption**_

Year: 2007, Orphanage 4:00pm

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

At the orphanage, Mildred waited at the bottom of the stairs. The adoption interview was about to get started and Mikey wasn't anywhere in sight. She would have shouted for him, but she didn't want to make a bad impression on the.

It was ten minutes later that the little boy slowly crept down the stairs, "How do I look Ms. G?" The boy spouted a tuxedo, and his normally uncombed hair was parted to the side.

"Goob, er, I mean, Michael," she corrected herself, "You look very nice for the big day."

The child, who was normally down-to-earth lost his composure, he actually took a couple steps backward. He looked at her with wide, fearful eyes, "What do I do Ms. M?"

"Just be yourself."

"That didn't work for Lewis," the child bit his lip as he reluctantly reached the bottom on of the stairs. They both knew that he was a nervous wreck. The child could not hide his fright. If he blew this, he might not get another chance. This was his first ever adoption interview and, if he screwed up, it might be his last.

"Well, Michael, you are not Lewis so you need to stop comparing yourself to him," she gave him a kiss on his check and then rubbed it, "look into my eyes. I have a good feeling. So get in there and swing it out of the park."

She opened the door and the small child could barely muster himself. Mildred then closed the door and, to Goob, it seemed she left him to the wolves.

He took the two in. One was a slim, beautiful woman with long, blond silky hair. If Michael had some more mature life experience, he would have guessed she was a trophy wife. The other man beside her was husky with a bald head and beady eyes.

"Why so serious?" The elder male joked in a surprisingly deep voice that startled Mike.

Mike froze, and he didn't respond. He didn't really interact with other adults other than Mildred and his elementary school teachers. This was new to him.

"You like sports?" the woman asked him.

"Enough to get a big shiny trophy," Good felt himself relax. These two suddenly didn't seem so frightening at all. In fact, they reminded him so much of the parents he always saw on television, "But I like winning even more."

"Winning, huh? Do you think you could win in business?"

"If business is like baseball, sure thing!"

The couple chuckled to themselves as the boy charmingly told the story of how he won the game.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

Year: 2007, Orphanage 4:25pm

Mildred, who was just outside, checked the clock. The first fifteen minutes and no tears, screaming, and leaving, scared adults. So far so good.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

Year: 2007, Orphanage 4:25pm

"I had a geeky roommate named, Lewis who blew up my room and almost me a bunch of times. I wish he would have listened to me."

"Then you would love what I do for a living. I am head of an invention company named InventCo, and people like Lewis work under my commands, deadlines, and goals."

"You actually tell these geeks what to do? And they listen to you?" Goob asked skeptically.

"Yep. They listen to everything I say, kiddo."

"Where have you been all my life?" He looked at the two affectionately.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

Year: 2007, Orphanage 4:35pm

Mildred went down to hallway and paced. A long interview could either mean two things. One, it meant that things were going extremely well. Or two, it meant the couple didn't have anything in common with young Michael. And that they were desperately fishing for information on how to relate to him.

She hoped her first hunch was correct.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

Year: 2007, Orphanage 5:00pm

The married couple turned to one another. Both noted the wide smile on the other's face. When they realized how much joy this child brought to them, they knew they had already made their decision.

The mother scooped up the child and crushed him against her body in the tightest maternal hug she could possibly muster, "Let's take you home."

Goob could barely muster his restraint as the newly formed family headed toward the front door. It was then that Mildred interrupted, "Wait, you have to file some paperwork before you leave!"

Adoptive father and son groaned as Mrs. Williams set the child down to the floor. Upon realizing their synchronous nature, they then both laughed. Mildred was surprised at how the two managed to quickly get along. Michael and Williams, ignoring Mildred, began excitedly talking amongst themselves while Mrs. Williams looked at Mildred apologetically.

"I can fill out the paperwork for us," Mrs. Williams sweetly said as she looked at the young boy longingly, "I don't think we'll be able to separate these two."

This was such a joyous day for all of them. First Lewis was adopted then Goob. At this rate, all the children in the orphanage would soon be adopted. Mildred had to take in the sight, and she could feel tears in her eyes.

_I'll miss you Michael…_


	7. Back to the Future

_**Chapter Seven: Back To The Future**_

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

_**Year: 2007, April 21st Robinson Home 12:30pm**_

Wilbur stomped upstairs back to the inventor's high, secluded dwelling in the attic. The teen found himself being the lackey of the younger boy in the house for the past week. Wilbur Robinson had just looked through the garage of the old Robinson home for a pair of spark plugs via the request of Lewis. He was reminded that this was the house before his dad made any modifications to it. It was much easier to find things in the futuristic Robinson household. There were many robots that Wilbur's dad created that would retrieve anything for the inventor. Unfortunately, in the past, there was no such luxury.

Of course, the box of spark plugs was too awkwardly shaped for Wilbur to carry upstairs without some help. He definitely needed Carl's handy, extendible arms. When he entered the room his eyes instantly darted from the demanding inventor to his best, metallic pal.

There was something very slight but noticeable to Wilbur. Carl's eyes were not concentrated on Lewis creating the prototype of what was supposed to be him. Wouldn't Carl be talking to Lewis about what to add on? Why the sudden lack of interest in what would eventually lead to his own creation?

There was something else on Carl's mind, and he was keeping it quiet. The robot kept scanning the room in a paranoid fashion.

"Hey, metalman, I need help carrying something up." Carl didn't seem to get the hint or seem interested. Wilbur had to basically shout at the robot to get his attention, "Earth to Carl? I need help carrying up something for Lewis?"

"Oh, sure thing," The robot reluctantly left with Wilbur and, as the two started to walk downstairs, Carl could feel his metallic legs quivering. His sense of balance of distorted, and he tried to inconspicuously grab onto the handrails.

As they started toward the bottom of the stairs from the garage, Wilbur suddenly cut Carl off.

"Carl, I know you're not alright. Spill it!" Wilbur exclaimed.

Wilbur's keen ability to understand people always astounded Carl. As the teen got older, this talent only seemed to strengthen. He was left in awe as Wilbur so easily extracted this information out of him by pure observation. Carl could feel the electricity in his mind rapid in fire succession as he realized just how fatigued he was. He felt himself stumble and Wilbur, as if already anticipating this, swooped in to break his fall.

Carl wouldn't be surprised if Wilbur also picked up on how physically weak he was. Carl was used to a specialized energy source in the future. In the past, he had to rely on eating crude oil and pure electricity to survive; things that were nutritionally lacking for a sophisticated technology such as himself. The teen led Carl to the living room toward a nearby couch. It was then that Carl started to realize just how strong the young man was becoming. Wilbur was able to effortlessly guide him and support a big fortune of his weight. Wilbur used to not be able to do that.

It was when he was in the safe embrace of the couch, Wilbur sitting adjacent to him, that Carl decided to tell Wilbur. As the teenager already knew so much there was no purpose in hiding the rest. Wilbur is now fourteen. Maybe now was the time to trust Wilbur more with larger responsibilities.

"No, you're right that I'm not alright," Carl looked at the boy with his blue eyes, "I have detected something very concerning in the timestream."

"What?"

"Lewis is disappearing in multiple times. There is some disturbance that will totally erase him from this timeline!"

"Is that why you won't leave him alone?" Wilbur looked at him seriously. The teen already knew the answer, but he enjoyed seeing the flabbergasted look on Carl's face. The android's expression told Wilbur that he was not expecting the teen to take in so much from him.

"You have a gift, Wilbur Robinson." Carl smiled in pride, "That's exactly why I've been doing what I've been doing."

"What can we do to make sure Lewis is safe?" Wilbur asked.

"We definitely can't stay here forever."

"You mean time travel," he paused as he was hesitant to finish the next part, "To where?"

"Back to the future. It is the only place that the disturbances seem to not go. The future will stabilize to its new form tomorrow morning. We'll need to go before then with Lewis in tow."

"The future," Wilbur breathed as he realized how dangerous this proposition was, "isn't exactly bright."

"I've been trying to come up with a better plan, but, hey, I feel weak. If I only had some of the good stuff that Cornelius made for me I'd feel like my handy-dandy self."

"Luckily, danger is my calling. We'll go back to the future and set up our new home base there. But next we'll need to do the hard part and that's-"

"Convincing little Cornelius to leave," Carl finished.

"Okay," Wilbur said, "this will be very hard to explain to the family. And I really, really don't want a second helping of the ground-and-pound my parents gave me the last time I brought Lewis home."

Carl put his hands on Wilbur's shoulder, "Leave the explaining to me. They'll understand the direness of the situation."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

_**Year: 2007, April 21st Robinson Home 1:00pm**_

Lewis, at first, loved the company in the normally lonely home. As time went on, he dreaded all the noise and distractions that came with it. He only recently understood that he took the silence for granted. And that he needed silence to work efficiently.

Wilbur bit his lip at the sight Lewis working diligently on his project. The older boy almost didn't have the heart to tell him. It seemed they just got here, and he just tasted freedom from the punishment his parents gave him.

_It is now or never, Wilbur. We can't waste anyone more time. Even with a time machine. _The teen thought to himself.

"There you two are," Lewis temporarily stopped working on his project, spun his chair, and eagerly looked at the two. He was confused when he didn't see anything in either of the duo's hands, "What's the matter? Did you two get the plugs yet?"

"No, we need to talk about something."

"Well, it will have to wait until after the mini-carl is created," Lewis turned and faced opposite of them. He was eager to finish this project at all costs. He couldn't afford anymore distractions.

"Sorry but Project Alpha is cancelled, little Cornelius." Carl took the mess on his desk and stored it away in his chest.

"Fine, you destroyed my work and got my attention. Happy now?"

"You need to come back to the future with us." Wilbur blurted out.

"Oh?" Lewis looked at the two skeptically, "and why is it so important that I come with you?"

"There are rips in the timestream. According to my sensors, they will soon come here in this time to take you. The only safe place is back with the Robinson family."

It was then that Lewis began to realize that this was something very serious. He only had to think for a brief second before he asked the next natural question.

"Where would these time rips take me?"

"I don't know. But it can't be anywhere good." Carl said, "We have to go before you do."

"Are you crazy? I can't leave here. I have my college entrance exams to study for, important inventions to make, and-" Lewis paused and he looked at the two with eyes wide. It was obvious to the two that he was trying so hard not to look weak, "I just got the family I always wanted."

"Sorry, but there's no other way."

"When do we need to leave?" Lewis asked as he sucked in a breath. He knew the answer would be too soon for comfort.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**

_**Year: 2007, April 22nd Robinson Home 5:30am**_

_Lucille and Bud noticed their young son and prodigy not touch the food on his plate. _

"_You're not eating, sweetie," chirped Lucille._

"_I'm not hungry tonight," was the inventor's candid response._

Lewis hesitantly buckled his seatbelt. Why did it seem that every time the time machine was about take him far away it never was a good occasion? He continued to think of the last encounter he had with his newly acquired parents.

_She suddenly was alarmed. "What is it? Are you lonely? I'll stay with you home longer," Lucille put her hand on top of her one and only son's, "I can take my vacation early?" she offered._

"_No, that's fine. I just have some sort of gastro-intestinal virus. I'm going to retire early for the night. May I be excused?"_

"_Hmn, a gastro-intestinal virus. You better rest before those critters get the best of you. Of course, you know that," Bud then added, "If it isn't gone by tomorrow I will have my science class do some tests to see what's going on in there."_

"_Goodnight and feel better, Cornelius." Lucille went to give him a hug._

"_Don't squeeze him too hard, Lucille. You might trigger the flatuence!"_

Lewis briefly glanced at his two companions. It didn't seem that any of them wanted to go. Carl and Wilbur also looked at the young Robinson household with almost the same longing.

The time machine slowly rose; in the early hours of dawn before Lucille and Bud were awake.

There was no telling what would wait for them. They were as prepared as they would be. Lewis knew from previous conversations that the future wasn't the safest place, but it was definitely safer than here.

The prototype time machine flew just above a field of yellow flowers that grew beyond the property of his home; the Anderson observatory. They always grew when warmer weather hit. These beautiful flowers always started to grow in mid to late April; around Lewis's birthday.

_See you tomorrow morning. We love you, Lewis.  
><em>

The young inventor looked at his reflection in the window and saw a single tear he shed run down his cheek. He loved them too.


	8. Future Has Arrived

**Chapter Eight: The Future Has Arrived**

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, Unknown Location, April 22__nd__, 6:00am_

All of the passengers braced themselves for the worse as they entered the new time. They all held their breaths and they were rigid with anticipation on what was the other side.

No attacks.

Nothing obstructed their path.

Everything _seemed_ peaceful and calm.

Wilbur and Carl collectively let go of their breath. Both were relieved. They imagined it to be a lot worse. The duo had so many adventures with the time machine already. Not being attacked as soon as you enter a new time was often a good sign.

However, the young inventor sitting in the back, was horrified at what he saw. Lewis was astounded to see the future he worked so hard for vanished and vanquished. No longer were the skies an immaculate blue. Instead, they were filled with a grayish soot that blocked out the sun. Buildings in his scope of vision still retained their original, twentieth-century designs as they churned even more soot and debry into the already chocked skies.

Whether there was more to see, Lewis could not tell as the soot reduced visibility to only the vehicle's immediate surroundings.

It seemed Wilbur was flying the craft very slowly and the inventor could immediately knew why. The pollution was so thick that the smog was starting to cover the windows. Lewis sneered in disgust. He thought the pollution in his time was bad. It seemed like the whole entire city of Todayland regressed back to the dismal days of the industrial revolution.

_Talk about one giant leap backward…_

"Wilbur, how about we ask for directions?" The robot sagely advised the driver.

"No way, I can find our house without help!"

Lewis put a hand gently on Wilbur's shoulder and looked his future son in the eyes. Wilbur instantly recognized that look. It was the I-know-more-than-you-so-just-do-as-I-say look. He knew it was useless to stubbornly fight against Lewis; a person who was essentially the embodiment of logic itself. The inventor smiled proudly as his son started to descend the time machine toward the ground.

"Why don't you ever listen to _me_?" Carl remarked jealously as the time machine landed. The landing displaced a large amount of soot into the air.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. As soon as this is over, I'm doing things Wilbur-style. Now, what do your sensors say?"

"Nothing at the moment."

"Maybe the smog is so thick that electromagnetic waves can't travel through it?" Wilbur suggested. Carl and Lewis, who were much less ignorant of all things scientific, could only be amused by the young man's theory.

"That's impossible," Lewis rolled his eyes. Even with that addressed, there was still no real answer, "That's insane. How could an advanced technological future maintain complete radio silence?"

"While you ponder that, I'll explore up ahead."

Wilbur grabbed a blue glove from the car's driver compartment and slipped it on his right hand. The trio slowly slid out after him. Wilbur, the most daring of the three, started to walk ahead of the group and starting surveying the surrounding area.

"Wilbur, I don't think that's a good idea." Lewis went to stop the teen, "We don't know what's out there."

"It's okay. I'm armed," Wilbur decided to show Lewis the gadget he put on. He put on a mischievous grin, "Besides I can't listen to you all the time."

The younger boy was obviously not impressed. He had no experience to know that this was a Chargeball glove. Normally it was a simple glove used in a futuristic sport of the same name. Wilbur was obsessed with the sport so much that he constantly wore a shirt with the Chargeball logo on it; a bolt of lightning inscribed in a circle.

Chargeball was an electrified and holographic version of tennis, but the teen quickly figured out that the actual glove was not just a plaything. It made a good weapon; defensive and offensive.

Lewis gave the glove a skeptical look, and while he was hesitant to do so, the inventor stepped out of Wilbur's way. Wilbur instantly went to work and crept along the desolate streets.

_Lugubrious skies up ahead. Check._

_Lack of infrastructure and public services? Check._

_A populace too frightened to walk outside? Check._

The experienced adventurer quickly reevaluated his stance of how bad things were. By the way things were going, it was worse than he originally suspected. He saw this a couple times before during his and Carl's other time machine adventures. This wasn't going to be an easy fix.

"Wilbur, someone's coming." Carl warned.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, Unknown Location, April 22__nd__, 6:00am_

The Chargeball glove hymned as it was powered on by the wearer. Wilbur was not taking any chances; not with Lewis and Carl here. At the first sign of hostility, the teen would fire. Pure and simple.

A chubby, middle aged man in a red, polished ant costume came waddling out of the smog. He had short black hair and chocolate brown eyes not unlike Wilbur's. His mustache moved back and forth as he sneezed due to the multitude of dust particles.

"Welcome to Todayland, the place where the sun don't shine," the man in the ant costume sighed, "literally."

Wilbur instantly lowered his glove. It was a civilian.

The older man was intrigued by the craft that he assumed belonged to the two boys and the robot. It was a beautiful machine, and he immediately assumed they belonged to an extremely wealthy family. No one around here could afford a flying car. It was luxury item after all.

Anything other than life was a luxury in _this _city.

"Good day, sir. Can you point me to Robinson Industries please?" Wilbur instantly tried to put on his natural charm.

"Where?" He squinted his beady, brown eyes at the newcomer.

"Robinson Industries. You know, the company that creates flying cars and inflatable buildings?"

"What?"

The visitors kept insisting of the existence of this arcane place. After a couple of retorts back and forth the man had enough and interrupted Wilbur, who was the most defiant and outspoken of the group.

"Listen kids, there is no Robinson Industries. Never has been. By the way, you might not want to mention the name Robinson around here."

"Why?" The rebellious teenager asked.

"Why do you think, kid? Old town is the stomping grounds of the underground resistance. It isn't exactly a secret that they hate Cornelius Robinson and the Robinsons as a result. You should really go before-"

"Melvin," a woman spoke slowly in a threatening, lower voice. Her voice seemed to come from above, "why are you talking to the _**enemy**_?"

A form jumped from the rooftops and landed on the ground a few feet away from them. She wore an odd black and grayish dress with blood red nylons and lipstick to match. Her hair was long, straight, and raven. It was carefully tucked underneath a elaborate, heightened crown. Her skin tone was a ghostly white; due to a lack of sunshine. With the inability of the sun to penetrate the thick layer of filth, this was not surprising. Her movements were almost insect and predatory like. Lewis was immediately reminded of spider-man but there was no mistaking this person for a hero.

"They are just boys, Lizzy." Melvin gasped. The overweight man backed away as he saw the top commander of the underground saunter toward the group.

She scanned the newcomers with an emotionless look on her face.

"Carl Robinson," she pointed to the robot who shrank back at the sharpness in her voice. She then passed in front of the next newcomer as if stalking were prey.

"Wilbur Robinson," she hissed and the boy went into an offensive stance.

She stopped in front of the blond child. By her extended gaze, it was clear she didn't recognize him.

She slowly hunched over the boy and breathed menacingly, "One who is in the company of the enemy is the enemy."

Melvin gasped as he saw Lizzy draw a sharp object, "You're seriously not going to harm them, are you?"

"Go back to your station, Machiavelli drone," she spat and cast the man look as if daring for him to intervene, "This is going to be messy. I only tolerate you because you have to wear an ant costume."

Melvin looked at the boys in concern, but he complied with Lizzy. He ran off. If there was one person that you didn't mess with it was the Gothic Ant Queen herself.

Lizzy's attention turned from the fleeing man toward the group. If her looks didn't kill, Wilbur knew she would finish the job. The teen gasped as she rushed toward them.

She was fast. She was hostile.

Wilbur didn't want to wait to see if she was deadly.

He fired his glove, but the ant queen gracefully dodged it. She jumped him and knocked him to the ground.

"Get under the car, genius!" Wilbur ordered Lewis, "Carl, back me up!"

Both of Wilbur's comrades followed their orders.

Before Lizzy could do her deed, Carl wrapped his arms around her torso and jerked her backward, "Not on your life, missy!"

Lewis felt his paternal instinct kick in. He wasn't a father yet, but he felt the danger his future son was in. He started to emerge from underneath the car.

"Stay under the car!" Wilbur exclaimed.

Lewis knew Wilbur was right. If he was hurt then Wilbur and Carl would never have the chance to be born. He felt so helpless and useless. He had to do something.

The teenager groaned in agony as Lizzy managed to free one of her arms and slam his head into the asphalt. Wilbur felt the world blur as he attempted to recover from the blow. Carl managed to restrain the free arm again but it was an almost impossible effort.

"I will take a finger or two as a parting gift from you, Wilbur." Lizzy was a woman of few words, but she meant every single one of them.

Lizzy's strength was almost otherworldly. Even with the continuous, combined effort of Carl, they were barely succeeding in keeping the vindictive woman inches away from the teen.

Carl continued to restrain her, but she was succeeding in bringing the weapon ever closer to Wilbur. He felt her muscles out power his.

"Stay away from him!" Carl exclaimed and attempted to pull her back once more. It wasn't working. He could feel the bolts and screws inside him beginning to strip and tear.

He definitely wasn't engineered for this. Cornelius _really _should have given him those upgrades.

_Not the face_, Wilbur's eyes narrowed in horror as the sharp object loomed ever closer, _That's my bread and butter._

He shut his eyes and could only attempt to thrash around. The woman smiled in malice at the futile attempt to resist her. Pathetic. If she still had a heart, she would have felt sorry for him.

_Almost there. _

Her heart pumped as she could taste victory in her grasp, but it was not meant to be. A bright light appeared and struck her.

Her usually sublime, raven hair was fizzed from to shot that was fired at her. Her crown fell off her head.

It definitely caught her off guard as she temporarily staggered backward. Someone had jolted her with electricity. It wasn't the teenager nor the android. Someone else fired the shot. She would get back to Wilbur, but first she had to take care of the one who was armed.

Her vision went back into focus. And then she saw the hostile.

It was the blonde boy.

He gasped as Lizzy slid over, grabbed his arm, and pulled him upward. The child obviously was surprised that she recovered so quickly. He wasn't anticipating this.

"How _**dare**_ you."

Something hesitated her from hurting him. Something in her delicate psyche was keeping her from dishing out her severe punishment.

There was something intriguing about him.

Who was this child? And why was he with Wilbur? Why did he seem so familiar?

Perhaps Cornelius Robinson had another child in secret. The bespectacled boy certainly _looked_ like him. She could smell the fear from him as he trembled. He obviously was not a fighter like Wilbur was.

What was odd was that the child was not even trying to get away. It was almost as if the child calculated that his chances of fighting her off were zero. He was only bracing himself; expecting the worst. Smart kid.

Maybe if she smelt him she would recognize his origins. She brought him to her chest and gently whiffed at his spiky, blonde hair.

The boy cringed and closed his eyes. This advance was obviously unwelcomed, but she was able to at least confirm she had meant him before. His pheromones were similar. But where and how? She began to lift up his shirt; the pits would give her the rest of what she needs to know.

"Hey, you! I would get your creepy hands off of em'!"

Lizzy immediately went on guard. Did Wilbur and Carl already get up?

Her eyes narrowed when she saw a small frog hop audaciously toward her.

"Francis?" Lewis could scarcely believe it. But what did this small creature think he was doing? The frog must be delusional to think he could stop this monstrous woman.

Yet Lewis should never have underestimated the frog. Afterall, Francis was created by Franny. That meant that, no matter how impractical, unrealistic, or crazy the plan, it was possible. The boldness and confidence in an impossible challenge was a quality Franny obviously extended to her creation.

"You know your fire ant farm? I ate them all; one by one and washed their little ant screams with a little champagne. They were," Francis started at her as if savoring every syllable, "_de-lic-ious."_

She let go and Lewis felt himself drop to the ground. He, thankfully, was no longer her focus.

Engaged by the taunt, she charged toward the amphibian. Francis, however, proved to be too agile and easily kept out of her grasp.

"I will dissect you!"

The frog expertly weaved through her attacks with a grace that Wilbur was jealous of. If only he could move like that, he could have protected everyone. In the end, he couldn't even protect himself.

More tuxedo-ed frogs croaked and joined in on the spectacle. They continued their taunts and kept her concentration focused on them.

"You little freaks! I will destroy you all!"

"I'm the freak? No you the freak!" The animals bellowed in laughter and continued to frolic around the female assailant.

With her distracted, Carl and Wilbur picked themselves up and looked toward Lewis. They noticed that the unexpected hero of the day was being helped up by the protective arms of the man in the ant costume.

"Melvin," Carl was thankful for his unexpected help, "You went for help. Thank you, friend."

The man's black mustache wiggled as he smiled. He was obviously thankful to see that they were all alright.

"Follow me, quickly!"

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, Underground Cavern, April 22__nd__, 6:30am_

"Why does she hate me so much?" Was the teen's first question.

He was rubbing his head. It continued to throb mercilessly. The seasoned adventurer was used to worse and learned that distraction was the best way to manage pain.

"She doesn't hate you so much as she hates Cornelius Robinson, Wilbur."

"My dad?"

"Oh, yes," he sighed and rolled his eyes, "it is a very long story. Not sure if I'm in the mood to tell it right now."

"So old guy, what's with the ant costume?"

"Just a gig for a guy hurting for money. I don't know why Machiavelli Industries has surveyors in this particular costume."

"Machiavelli?" Lewis' curiosity naturally came to the surface, "That name comes up a lot. What is that?"

"How can you boys not know Machiavelli Industries? Especially you, Wilbur. Cornelius Robinson, your dad, is head of research and development there."

Wilbur and Lewis exchanged an awkward glance. Carl, to not blow their cover, placed his hands on the teenager's shoulders and began to lie.

"Wilbur tends to not be able to remember things well," he then looked down at the young man, "huh, slugger?"

"Okay, then why don't you tell him?"

"Um," Carl paused as he began to think of another lie.

"Sounds like you all have amnesia," The senior male suggested, "I wouldn't blame you if you can't get your wits together after meeting Lizzy."

They all chuckled nervously and decided to settle on that. To claim that they came from an alternative timeline was too incredulous of a story to claim as true.

He showed them a small opening in a chain fence, "These mines lead directly to the Robinson home. People usually don't go here though. This place is relatively unknown. So go ahead. I'll be right behind you."

"And you didn't want to ask for directions," Carl smiled condescendingly at Wilbur and was the first to go through the fence. The boys allowed after the robot.

Melvin, unsuccessfully, tried to follow after them. He was too large to fit through the tiny opening.

"I guess this is where I leave you off," the man groaned as he pushed himself back up, "good luck and you just need to walk straight ahead."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_Year: 2037, Underground Cavern, April 22__nd__, 6:34am_

As he walked back toward his post, he couldn't help but feel as if he forgot to mention something important about the mines. He struggled to remember. He wasn't getting any younger by any means.

Undoubtedly, the Gothic Queen would realize he had helped them escape. He felt chills throughout his spine. Lizzy was at her tamest today. He better face her wrath now while she was in a good mood.

But why wasn't she as nasty today? It was then the realization crept up on him, and he remembered what he forgot to tell them.

_No,_ he thought. _They probably wouldn't be stupid enough to go down __there__._

But he couldn't be too sure with two children and an android.

Especially ones who seemed to be suffering from amnesia.

_Crap._

He had to warn them. He rushed back to the small opening where he left them off; almost tripping in his haste. If only he wasn't so forgetful himself, and he cursed as he, once again, couldn't get himself through. Not only was he not getting any younger but he definitely wasn't getting any thinner. He attempted to make the opening bigger. If he could only squeeze himself through, he could stop them, but it was no use.

"Wait, kids!" he yelled out. He only heard his echoes throughout the expansive cavern as a response.


	9. Battle of the Antdroid

**Author's Note: **The Meet the Robinsons video game for Playstation2 and Xbox360 was a big inspiration for this story. If you haven't bought it yet, I highly encourage you too. It is entertaining and creative! The Xbox360 version has beautiful graphics too.

I felt this chapter was too rushed, but the next chapter won't be that way. Enjoy.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Underground Resistance Headquarters- Control Room, April 22nd**_

"Ogmios."

"Yes, Lizzy. What is it?"

"Melvin helped them get away."

"Lizzy, you know I don't like it when you talk menacingly like that."

"I don't like it when people get away." The voice then ceased.

"Wow, she hung up already?" a voice beside Ogmios said, "So what did psycho have to say?"

"Let's just say that Lizzy made one of those frogs sing. The poor things."

"Do you think she'll make me some frog legs?"

"Darn it, Stanley, all you think about is food!"

"Can't help what is natural. Where did they go?"

"The mines. Looks like those rascals are trying to get back home."

"Intercept them?"

"Of course."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Todayland Mines, April 22nd**_

Carl extended his eyes outward from their mechanical sockets to form binoculars and surveyed the surrounding landscape.

"_Strange, this place looks familiar, but I don't know from where,"_ the android thought to himself.

A sudden pain jolted from his arm. He almost cried out, but he tried to keep his composure for the boys' sake. He coddled his arm. At this current moment, he wished Cornelius would have not have designed him to feel pain. Cornelius told him that pain was necessary to keep one from hurting themselves. Pain forced one to not strain themselves. That, even though it was uncomfortable, pain served an important purpose. Carl sucked in his breath at the recollection of Lewis' older self.

Cornelius told him a lot of things.

He wanted to believe deep down inside of himself that his creator was still the same wise, ingenious, and kindhearted soul he always was. Yet the evidence was overwhelmingly pointing in a direction contrary to his hopes.

Carl looked at the two boys who were up ahead of him. Never mind the fact that he was in pain. He was just thankful that the two were alright. He only wished he could do more to protect them, but he wasn't equipped for this. Cornelius made him to be his primary lab assistant and beloved family companion.

Carl was made the way he was because Cornelius really didn't _expect_ anyone to harm him or his family. There was no need to give Carl the upgrades the robot wholeheartedly suggested; back the last time little Cornelius visited the future.

Why would there need to be? The Robinsons were universally acclaimed. Everyone loved them and cherished them. For all their eccentricities, they were an accomplished family. Now, everyone seemed to hate older Cornelius and his accomplishments. Whatever those currently unknown accomplishments were.

Worse, this hate even extended to his family. Carl never experienced anything like this from other people besides the Bowler Hat Guy and the never-again-mentioned Doris.

Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred.

The pain in his arm subsided, and he took the opportunity to tighten up Wilbur's time lock belt. The teenager begrudgingly complained about how sore he was.

"You and me both, buddy," Carl put a hand against his ear, "Oh, and I think I finally got some radio signals."

"Great, what do they say?"

Carl froze on the spot and he could feel cold electricity surge down inside of him; the robot equivalent of the chills. He nervously put his hands in his mouth as he listened to the message.

"It is Lizzy," Carl spoke slowly and softly. He couldn't make out the rest of it, "it seems she is looking for us."

They subconsciously started to quicken their pace. If there was one thing they _didn't_ want happening, it was Lizzy possibly catching up to them. Despite being physically sapped, they continued onward. What choice did they really have?

_Keep Moving Forward..._

It was such a brilliant motto, and it propelled them further than their current energy would have allowed. Yet they all knew that moving forward was not so simple a proposition. The mines were complex and almost seemed artificially constructed. It clearly wasn't as simple as Melvin lead them to believe.

"Mine cart tracks?" Wilbur stopped as he noticed gold and rod steal plates ingrained in the ground.

They looked remarkably like them, but they were very wide. The cart would have to be the size of a bus to be able to go down these tracks.

"No, and now I know what these mines really are," Carl lamented. He softly kicked the tracks and a large vibration shook throughout the area, "It isn't a mine but rather abandoned train tracks."

"It makes sense. If Robinson Industries never happened, then there would be no need for Aunt Billie to build the train tracks," Wilbur added.

"I don't get it," Lewis ran his fingers through his hair. He was obviously impacted by Wilbur's statement, "the future I worked so hard for is not the same."

"It's alright, Lewis. We'll get to the bottom of this," Wilbur extended a reassuring hand on Lewis' shoulder.

The older boy was surprised when Lewis refused his friendly gesture. The inventor shook off his hand and then ran away.

"Wait, that's not the way back home. Lewis stop!" Wilbur went after him only to be blocked by an extendible arm of Carl.

"Little Cornelius," Carl sighed but he knew not to pursue him. When Cornelius ran away, it was because he desperately needed solitude. Even though Cornelius was an extremely talented inventor and scientist extraordinaire, versed in all reason and logic, he did have emotions.

Older Cornelius often told his mechanic assistant that there was no reasoning with emotion and especially with him. Feelings were something that the inventor would always had a hard time processing.

Lewis was still a prepubescent child. He didn't have a reason to be so emotional. Except he was. Wilbur always was the calm and mischievous one, but Lewis was the passionate and serious one.

"I'm the teenager. I should be the moody one not him," Wilbur crossed his arms in impatience. He _hated _being told what to do by anyone. Especially when that something involved staying put.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Underground Cavern, April 22nd**_

Lewis just needed some time to cool off, and he was glad that the two were giving him his space. He didn't go too far from the two, but he wanted to be far enough. When he shed tears, it was almost always in solitude.

The polymath needed to grieve. He just lost Robinson Industries. There was no guarantee that the Robinson household was going to be the same. In fact, given the current circumstances, the genius could only naturally assume things were radically different.

He just need to kick something. _Anything_.

A large, solid crystal lain a few feet in front of him in a darkened area; just in the corner. That would do. He sauntered up to it, extended his foot outward, and swung with all the strength he could muster.

_Every action leads to an equal and opposite reaction. _

Lewis recalled Newton's law of motion as pain jolted up his leg. Yes, it hurt but it didn't feel so bad. In fact, it helped numb the internal pain he was feeling. He continued to kick. Again. And again. His leg and foot were throbbing, but it was a welcome distraction from the torrent of emotions that were nagging at him.

He was about to kick again but, instead, he almost jumped in surprise as the crystal lit up the surrounding area. It illuminated the area with a soft, pale purple light. The crystal must of had a mechanism that transferred the energy from his kicks into electricity.

"Piezoelectricity," Lewis could see his reflection on the crystal's surface as he tapped it, "nice."

He froze in fear as he noticed that his reflection wasn't the only one inside of the crystal's reflection. In the corner was a humanoid figure.

Dare he turn around?

He'd have to, but when he did the person was far larger and threatening than the reflection made it out to be. Lewis yelped and scrambled backward when a man come out from his hiding spot.

"Sorry to startle you, little man," he let out a wheezed laugh, "My name is Stanley."

The man was one of the largest men Lewis had ever seen. He took gluttony to the maximum physically possible. Lewis wondered he could possibly stand upright; how his legs didn't break under the oppressive weight of their owner. Stanley breathed heavily as he continued his unwelcome approach. He wore small, red head goggles and spouted a small mop of blond hair on the top of his head. In addition, his clothing of choice was a breezy tunic; plucked straight from the glory days of the Roman Empire.

The obesity, the tunic, and the impaired eyesight. There was no mistaking who this person was.

"Stanley Pukowski?" Lewis could scarcely believe to see a familiar face, "from Joyce Williams elementary school?"

"Ah, if you know me so well then you must be the kin of," Stanley's face scrunched up, "Cornelius Robinson." He said the name with gritted teeth.

With that, Lewis then understood that Stanley, like everyone else he had met so far, was probably not friendly. It was obvious to the young genius that Stanley was forcing himself to be nice.

"Are you all alone, kiddo?"

"Don't worry," Lewis slowly backed away, "I have company."

Stanley knew that already, but it was obvious his concerned facade wasn't working on the boy. He might as well just get the the point.

"Here, kid," he threw a spherical object toward the kid, "catch!"

Lewis didn't have time to react. The ball morphed into a circle that entwined itself around the child's neck. It locked on and Lewis could not pull it off.

Stanley was blatantly pleased with himself, "Wilbur and Carl might not be here, but you'll do just fine for the underground."

"The underground?"

"Oh, yes. Lizzy told us all about how you cleverly got away. Your froggy friends couldn't help you for very long."

Lewis had enough, "Wilbu-"

His call for help was cut off as he felt the shackle on his neck tighten. Lewis' call for help was immediately strangled from him.

"Don't bother screaming, the higher your voice the more you are constrained."

Even though he should have been terrified, curiosity took a hold of him,"What is this?"

"An invention by Cornelius. At least he is good for something," Stanley glared at Lewis as he resisted him pulling the boy alongside him, "Come on, kid," he said impatiently, "I'm missing my hourly lunch."

_I invented this?_

The young inventor immediately stopped that train of thought.

No, he couldn't think about that right now. He needed to find a way out of his current predicament.

Lewis decided his best chance for escape would be to play with Stanley's emotions. The other blond was always prone to bullying.

There was no way Wilbur and Carl would be able to hear his calls for help with his voice currently constrained. Lewis was now aware that he was thought by others, not as Cornelius, but rather another son of Cornelius. He decided to play along.

A smirk spread to his face as he began to formulate a plan. He might not have a way to shout and call for help, but he might not have to.

There were two critical things that he must do. The first was to buy time. The second was for Carl and Wilbur to somehow be alerted that he was in trouble. He had only been captured like this one time before and that was with the bowler had guy. With that experience in mind, the inventor devised a stratagem.

"Wow, so I finally meet someone my dad knew from the past," Lewis tried to say it as innocently as possible like he had no clue. Lewis was young and, in addition, looked somewhat young for his age. He would use this to his advantage, "my dad told me you were the biggest wimp of all time."

"Keep moving, kid."Stanley fiercely tightened his grip on Lewis arm and jolted him forward.

"Tell me, were you always a wimp or was it a gradual process?"

"I said keep moving!" Stanley was getting more agitated with each exchange. So far so good.

"Why do you wear a tunic? Is that you couldn't find any clothing at the extra large store?"

"That's right. Wait, no! Why am I answering that?"

"In addition, why does your tunic look like a big napkin? There are food stains all over it."

"Your questions," Stanley let go of Lewis and childishly placed his puffy hands over his ears,"they're so annoying!"

"My dad told me that your volcano sucked at the science fair. Or did it just blow?"

"Enough!" Stanley screamed and loomed ominously over the inventor, "my science project failed because _your _dad's stupid science project ran amok. I failed because of _your _dad's invention. Got that?"

"I-"

"Now that I think about it, every invention Cornelius created has made everyone's lives miserable. Automatic bankers that steal from us. Robots that control and enslave us. And worse," Stanley lifted his tunic to expose a long, burn across his abdomen, "weapons that _hurt us_ whenever we try to make our lives just a little less miserable."

Stanley was short of being hysterical, "And then here you are with a superiority complex," he glared at Lewis and pointed his fleshy finger at the child in an accusatory matter, "You have no clue!"

Lewis wasn't expecting that kind of reaction, and he definitely took it all in. He got what he wanted. Stanley lost his temper and yelled for all to hear. Wilbur and Carl would come to his rescue at any moment. But Lewis didn't feel triumphant. He felt like the lowest life form on the planet.

Lewis was shocked at himself.

No, Lewis was disgusted with himself.

The child tried so hard to stay strong today, but hearing Stanley's tirade just tore him apart. How could Lewis be so insensitive? Stanley was the closest thing Lewis had to a friend in elementary school. To think that he did something that would have contributed to hurt him was soul crushing and completely outside of Lewis' character. And to think that Lewis's carefully planned retorts at Stanley only rubbed salt in the wound.

Lewis might only be twelve years old, a simple child, but he grasped how much pain he caused and created. He was silent, and stood frozen on the spot.

"Look, I'm sorry kid. I really am. It must really suck to hear that about your father. You've probably been sheltered all your life."

Lewis still did not respond. This time Stanley more gently took his hand and led him to a nearby vehicle. Lewis did not resist.

"I'm not a bad person. I'm just a good person that has been pushed to do bad things." Stanley said. He was running short of breath even though they didn't travel far.

They stopped just short of a nearby vehicle. Lewis wasn't surprised. A person like Stanley definitely wouldn't have walked here.

The young inventor continued to retreat into himself and didn't respond to any further soft coaxing by Stanley.

"Look, am I going to have to pick you up or will go willingly?" The obese man held out his hand, "Come on."

_Maybe if I go with them, none of these bad things will happen to everyone._

Lewis extended his hand toward the man's.

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Underground Cavern, April 22nd**_

The yell reverberated throughout every nook and canny of the cavern Wilbur and Carl were currently seated in. Wilbur felt his heart drop when he recognized it had came from the direction little Cornelius had ventured off to. It definitely wasn't Lewis' voice though.

"Lewis," they both looked at each other and said in unison.

They waisted no time as they ran. Wilbur and Carl stopped as they realized they reached a crossroads with three massive tunnels. They heard more harsh words echoing throughout the cavern. Neither could make out what they were.

Carl listened carefully to distinguish which direction it was coming from "This way!" He pointed toward the middle and Wilbur ran ahead of him.

Carl smacked into Wilbur as the teen abruptly stopped in front of him. Up ahead, Lewis was about to place his hand into another's. Lewis was about to be whisked away from them.

_Not again._ Wilbur couldn't have history repeat itself. Not when Lewis was lastly taken away by the bowler hat guy.

"Not this time," Wilbur already had the glove readied. He fired a warning shot, "Let him go!"

"Wilbur!" Stanley visibly stepped backward and was taken aback. Wilbur was known to be very skilled in combat. Worse, he was armed. Stanley was used to taking the easier missions. He was hoping just to take the blond kid for the time being and possibly pick the others off one by one. Obviously, that wasn't going to work.

Carl used his stretchy powers to retrieve Lewis and pull him to safety. Little Cornelius didn't seem to respond.

Wilbur continued to shoot at Stanley who, in response, ducked for cover in his ride. One of the blasts managed to hit a reverse lever. The would-be kidnapper was almost thrown off as his giant vehicle drove backwards.

"I'lllll geeet yooou!" He yelled as he accelerated away from the trio.

Immediately, Wilbur's attention turned to Lewis who seemed like a statue frozen in place. The teenager marched up to him and looked him square in the eyes.

"You were actually going to go with him? Your kidnapper?" the older boy face palmed. He couldn't emphasize his disappointment, "Lewis, I cannot believe you did that. I know your smarter than that!"

Wilbur was just so angry.

He was just so frightened. Frightened that he's loose him. Frightened for Lewis, the future, and himself. If something happened to Lewis, founder of the future, everything would be lost.

"Wilbur, I-" Lewis began to protest but was cut off.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

Lewis looked at him with a painful look in his eyes, "No."

Wilbur immediately realized that was the wrong thing to say.

_Orphan right..._

"All I'm trying to say is," Wilbur put his hands on his shoulders but then hugged him and squeezed him tight, "I'm glad you're safe."

Lewis was in awe of how much Wilbur reminded him of Franny at that one moment. That warm, parental, and protective embrace. He slowly came back to his senses enough to hug his future son back.

"Are you okay, little guy?" Carl tentatively walked closer the the duo. It was obvious he was concerned about the current behavior of Lewis. He didn't even seem happy about his rescue.

"I just want to go home." was the inventor's concise response. No one needed details right now at what was truly bothering him.

"Us too," Carl said and reeled the boys in for a big group hug, "this time we'll all stick together. No matter what."

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Underground Cavern**_

"Come on you stupid thing!" Stanley was struggling to bring is vehicle out of control. Why did Wilbur have to show up at that exact moment? Stanley let out an arsenal of curses. The undergrounder _had_ to open his big fat mouth.

"You failed miserably in yet another mission. How lovely." Lizzy was obviously amused by Stanley's battle for not only his vehicle but for his own self-control..

She sat in the head of a robot which was shaped as a humanoid ant;. It was a wondrous engineering design. Sharp, metallic pincers that were a dark red. The metallic frame of the rest of the robot was a lighter shade of shinning red. Two feeling antennas moved throughout the air; sensing the area around it. The robot was capable of flight thanks to two highly intricate ion-engines.

Lizzy was in the center of the monstrosity; peering out at Stanley from blue tinted windows; which were the eyes of the ant.

He managed to finally regain control back of his vehicle and turn toward her, "Fine Lizzy. I failed, but our orders are to bring them unharmed. What's with the mech? It's overkill."

"Don't question me, Stanley," was the cold, monotonous reply. He then recognized what Lizzy's intentions were. And it sickened him to his stomach. He wasn't a softie by any means, but he wasn't a cold-bloodied animal like her.

He tried reasoning with her. It had such an infinitely small chance of working but it was worth a shot.

"Look, I know you have a bad history with Cornelius. I do too, but you cannot take it out on those kids."

"I have a different history than yours," she spat, "Mine is a little more personal." With that she wordlessly propelled her mech forward.

_Oh, my God... _

"Ogmios," Stanley almost panicked and phoned in on his wrist communicator, "Lizzy is going rogue!"

"I know," Ogmios groaned, "she has disconnected with me. You need to stop her immediately."

"No way," he paused, "I'm not going to battle down there with creepy-crawly Lizzy."

"Stanley, you get down there right now or you will be demoted!"

While gaining the children of Cornelius Robinson would be an ideal situation for changing the political climate, there was no way Stanley was risking his life.

Stanley had already lost too much to Cornelius Robinson. Why should he sacrifice anything for his kin?

**= = = _/_o _\_ = = = **

_**Year: 2037, Underground Cavern, April 22nd**_

The surrounding gravel shook beneath them. They naturally assumed that Stanley was coming back to finish his mission. They ceased their group hug for the time being.

"Already want seconds big boy?" Wilbur went into a martial arts stance, "Wilbur Robinson is ready to dish out."

"That's not Stanley's," Lewis said as he adjusted his glasses, "his machine makes a certain hum because it is a mechanical engine. This machine has a different type of engine. It's a," he narrowed his eyes. He could see it, but he didn't know what it was, "It's a-"

"It's an _Ant_droid!" Carl picked up the two boys and began running. He extended his legs to allow for long, rapid strides.

"Carl," Wilbur protested on Carl's right side, "I had the perfect lock on!"

"Less talking more running," Carl explained, "My sensors indicate it is a mech capable of mass destruction. There's no way we can beat it."

"How did Stanley get that so quickly?" Wilbur wondered.

"It isn't Stanley who's driving it, it's Lizzy!"

All collectively shuddered. They couldn't even handle Lizzy by herself. There was no chance fending her off in a mega mechanical suit. Wilbur knew he was outgunned this time around. They needed to retreat and fast.

"Okay, commencing operation make and break," Wilbur quickly looked for a hole or isolated area that they could escape to, "Carl take evasive measures."

"Uh," Carl tried to run faster as he noticed what was once a red dot was becoming larger and more detailed. She was getting closer, "I don't see anywhere we could go."

"Maybe we can climb up and hide," Lewis observed, "If we can get somewhere high..."

"Right on it little Cornelius," Carl extended his arms upward and grabbed onto a small ledge near the top of the massive cavern. His arms reeled them upwards, and they successfully managed to reach an area of safety.

They peered down to see the giant machine was looking for them. The trio held their breaths and leaned as close to the wall as possible. If they were kept out of sight, Lizzy just might leave.

Wilbur dared not speak, but he gently tapped on Carl's shoulder instead. Carl and Lewis knew what Wilbur was trying to say. From their perch, they could see a smaller entrance to another part of the cave; smaller than Lizzy. Wordlessly, the boys clutched onto Carl as he walked backward. The goal was to land as close to the entrance as possible.

Silently, they fell and they landed with a thud. Lewis looked up and saw Wilbur and himself had successfully been thrown to safety.

"Wait," Wilbur whispered, "where's Carl?"

"He must have landed a little further than us. He weighs more so gravity would have weighed him down faster."

"There he is," Wilbur sighed. He was only a little bit away from where they were, "come now quickly Carl before Lizzy gets you."

The android brushed the dirt off, "Haha, really funny Wilbur. She's way too far away."

All stopped laughing when a red blur rushed past them. A trail of black oil was in the place he once stood triumphantly.

"Carl!"

Wilbur foolishly ventured out and shot at her. If he could just find a weak spot on the weapon of mass destruction, he could save his long and beloved comrade. The ant queen was vigorously shaking Carl like a ragdoll. At the sight of Wilbur, she slammed the limp robot into Wilbur. Both heavily impacted the wall with a sickening thud and Lewis could was mortified as neither moved.

Two down one to go. Lizzy was obviously pleased with her work.

Lewis couldn't just leave them but he knew he didn't stand a chance against that _thing_. He saw Wilbur's abdomen expand with breath and lively sparks still emit from Carl; they were alive. Barely but alive. All was not lost. The genius understood he couldn't help them in his current situation. Maybe if he just continued toward the Robinson house he could get help. Lewis decided that was the best course of action and retreated further into the small cave.

Hot liquid dropped on his arm as he began to advance. He shook the painful drop off of him. It was one thing after another.

_What now?_

He was shocked to see that the ceiling seemed to be melting. He realized Lizzy's robot had the ability to melt solid rock. She was using a powerful laser of some sort. He was knocked to the ground as a large, solid piece of the roof fell on him.

"Got you," the mech's arm thrust forward and grabbed him before he could scurry off. He instinctively tried to scream but he was muffled as the collar around his neck constrained him. He gasped for breath and hung his head down. He braced himself for the worst.

She could have easily crushed him, but she didn't. Lewis pried open an eye as he realized he was still alive and breathing.

He felt prickles down his spine as he felt her stare him down. She positioned him in front of her paralyzing view. He could only helplessly look on.

Lewis was deeply disturbed by the look Lizzy was giving him. Yet he couldn't place why. The look was similar to that affectionate look his mother Lucille gave him, but this look was more intense. More hungry.

His young mind could not comprehend what was going inside of her warped and twisted mind at that exact moment.

She softly applied pressure on him. Lewis tightly gripped the hand that was holding him in surprise. He felt so conflicted at the moment; it hurt but it also felt good. Whatever she was doing made him uncomfortable, "No, please, stop."

Lizzy did comply. The boy was right. She would have her fun later. Right now, she needed to get back to her liar. Her ants were beckoning to her. She got her revenge and also a prize. She walked away from the scene of her crime.

Lewis began to panic for two reasons. The first, he was being kidnapped by a psychopath; someone seemingly incapable of empathy. The second, Wilbur and Carl were drastically injured and he wouldn't be able to help them.

_What if they won't make it?  
><em>

He looked up at her, more shocked than ever, and pleaded, "Let me down."

"No."

"I really think you should, miss."

"If you are smart you will remain quiet and submissive."

"No, there's a really good reason."

"What?"

Lewis pointed behind her, "Stanley's back."

Bright lights blinded her as she looked toward the direction of the boy's gesture.

Stanley honked his horn, "Move out of the way, bitch!"

It was too late for Lizzy to react. He turned on the massive drill that was the front of his vehicle, braced for impact, and rammed it into Lizzy's mech. The force managed to let Lewis slip from her grasp. There was a large drop to the ground, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He had adrenaline rushing through his system; the pain from a fresh strain was minimal.. He quickly ran toward his fallen comrades; his family.

Lizzy attempted to stop the assault by her fellow undergrounder by slamming her robots hands on the drill to stop it. It seemed to work for a brief moment. The drill hissed and it ceased moving.

"No you don't, Lizzy," Stanley abruptly pulled a lever forward.

Lizzy's eyes grew wide. The drill wasn't even on full force. She could feel the building pressure as the two impressive machines worked against each others. Smoke came from the drill. It looked like Lizzy's still was the better machine. She huffed in superiority. Stanley was a failure like always.

Her attitude immediately changed when the mech's arms were suddenly torn off. She gasped as the drill removed its one and only barrier to her. Their brief battle ended with a spectacular display of sparks. The drill ripped through the heart of the Antdroid. The mighty machine fell on the ground; vanquished forever.

Lizzy was surprised. The man had balls after all. She suddenly gained a new found respect for Stanley as she crawled out from her demolished ant mech. After this, she knew that the underground would never welcome her with open arms again.

Her methods were too extreme for their taste. Or was it that their methods were too soft for her taste?

Before Stanley could apprehend her, she pressed a button and wings spouted from her ornate costume. Ants normally couldn't fly, but she was a Queen ant. She gave him a death glare and then made her retreat down the cavern.

With her out of the immediate vicinity, it was time for Stanley to inspect the damage done. He was shocked at what he saw. He was only gone for two minutes max. That's all that Lizzy seemingly needed.

"Stanley, what's going on down there!?" a voice demanded from Stanley's wrist watch.

"They are in pretty bad shape," Stanley nudged Wilbur with his foot. He ignored Lewis who was giving him a dirty look for touching Wilbur, "They are not even fighting back."

"You should have stopped Lizzy before anything happened!" Stanley could clearly hear the disappointment in the underground leader's voice. Ogmios never lost his temper, but he almost did this time. It was obvious he wasn't pleased with the situation.

"But-"

"Damn it, if you simply didn't hesitate and stopped Lizzy as soon as you had the chance, the injuries would have been minimal."

Stanley winced as Ogmios continued to reprimand him, "We do not have the resources to give them the proper medical treatment. Do you think dying or dead prisoners would be good ones for political bargaining?"

"I didn't think that far," the obese man hated being chewed out by someone he highly respected. He knew he deserved it though. He had been a coward, "What do I do now?"

"Leave them. We don't want to be blamed for their injuries. Pull out and return to base. You have clearly demonstrated you cannot handle a mission of this caliber."

"Acknowledged," a defeated Stanley began to slowly shuffle toward his heavily damaged vehicle. He almost entirely wrecked his ride and skipped two hourly lunches for nothing.

_At least I saved the kid's from psycho-ant in the end. I guess later is better than never..._

"Wait," Lewis found enough energy to pick himself up and start after the leaving man, "Carl is in bad shape. Please, can you at least take us back to our home?"

"Sorry, kid. I can't."

"That's not fair," Lewis tried to compose himself, "If it wasn't for you leading us here none of this would have happened."

"That's not my problem nor fault."

"Carl will permanently shut down without immediate attention!"

"Still, not my problem."

"You told me earlier that 'I'm not a bad person. I'm just a good person that has been pushed to do bad things.' Well, actions reflect what a person is. If you leave us, that reflects poorly on your character."

Stanley lowered his gaze, "Sorry, kid. I don't want to leave, but my orders are to return to base immediately."

"Oh, don't leave, Stanley," Ogmios sighed from the wristwatch communicator. He had too much of a bleeding heart to simply leave innocent civilians in distress, "Let me see him."

Stanley pressed a button, and the screen of the wristwatch removed itself and started to levitate. It started to circle around Lewis, but the inventor didn't feel threatened. In fact, he got good vibes off this man.

Both stared intensely at each other; gathering as much information as they could. Both were obviously the analyzing type. Lewis saw it was an old man with a small gray mustache and gray hair. He had a pudgy belly and lanky arms. His attire was a simple dress shirt tucked into simpler pants. He had benevolent blue eyes that were behind small reading glasses. He didn't look menacing. In fact, he looked like a very kindly old man.

The underground leader was taken aback by the uncanny resemblance. This kid definitely was the offspring of him. In fact, he looked just like Cornelius when he was younger.

Back when Cornelius was just a young man aspiring to make the world a better place.

Back when Cornelius was good.

God, how he missed those days.

Ogmios was experiencing a conflict. This kid's injuries didn't seem too severe, and they definitely had the resources to at least treat him. They could take him and leave the others. But that wasn't Ogmios' style. No, that was _Machiavelli's_ style. The person he was trying so desperately to stop.

He took a glance of the grievous injuries of Carl and the moderate injuries of Wilbur. Ogmios had already made his decision. The tiny screen floated back to Stanley. Ogmios whispered so the boy couldn't hear his deliberation with Stanley.

"Take them back. Let them be nursed back to health. And when they venture out of their home again, we'll be waiting."


	10. Family Reunion

**Author's Note: University is starting for me tomorrow. I'm excited but nervous at the same time. I'll be very busy, so I decided to write shorter chapters instead of incredibly long ones.**

**Give me feedback on what you like most (and least), and I'll concentrate on writing the good and interesting stuff. **

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Front Lawn of Robinson Household, April 22nd<strong>_

For the first time since they left the city, Lewis felt he could breathe. The filthy air was more tolerable in the suburbs outside the city. Stanley maneuvered his vehicle through the expansive green fields that were characteristic of the Robinson house; their beloved home was now a dot on the horizon. The passengers maintained an awkward silence with their hesitant rescuer and driver.

Wordlessly, Stanley abruptly stopped the vehicle and dumped his passengers onto the ground. Carl groaned in utter agony as he futilely attempted to get up. Wilbur caught the beloved robotic family member and hoisted him up.

Lewis, obviously not pleased with the rude gesture, narrowed his eyes at the man.

"You couldn't drive us any closer?" the child criticized as he looked at the fat man, "Judging by the looks of you, I'd think you'd love driving as much as universally possible."

"Don't get snappy with me, kid." Stanley warned, "An undergrounder isn't exactly welcome on the Robinson property. I'm on a registry list. Your father's bots would instantly imprison me."

Stanley took out a giant wrench and Lewis flinched as he expected to be struck. At this point, he couldn't blame Stanley for doing so. Instead, the man of lard cut off the restraining device that was around the inventor's neck.

"Did Cornelius," Lewis breathed as he looked down in shame at the removed device, "really make all these awful things?"

"Yes," Stanley said but at the sight of the child's disappointment he instantly added, "but you seem like a good kid. I'm sure you'll grow up to not be like him."

_But I am him..._

Stanley was obviously not aware of this irony as he silently went back to his vehicle. Lewis could only watch as Stanley began to drive away; the man returned back to the heart of the city of ash as his tunic flowed behind him like a cape. The undergrounder didn't look back.

Lewis turned toward the now barely steady Wilbur and the groaning android. Together, they lifted Carl up and slowly walked toward the front door of the Robinson household.

Wilbur had recovered quickly although he was still hurt. There were so many questions the young man had in his mind. All of them were unrelenting.

What was the underground? From what the young man gathered so far, the underground was a hostile gang-like organization that routinely had psychopaths like Lizzy in their ranks. And, unfortunately, they had something against his father and his family.

Who was Machiavelli and what was Machiavelli Industries and why was his father working for them? Better yet, where was Robinson Industries?

Speaking of his dad, why wasn't he helping the future like he was destined to? Worse, it seemed like his dad was impeding the progress of humanity than helping it along.

"The soot from the main city," Wilbur stopped his thoughts to listen to the young genius. Lewis was taking in every detail of the now dismal future, "is interfering with the weather."

"What makes you say that?"

The inventor pointed toward the grass and, while it was hard to see at first, he saw what Lewis did. Patches of grass were gone and shriveled. This pattern was there as far as the eye could see.

"What is that?" Wilbur almost dropped Carl and wasn't sure what he was seeing and was about to panic. He never saw or even heard of anything like it. It was almost like a disease.

"Acid rain," Lewis explained, "when the environment is polluted there are extra hydrogen ions in evaporated water. So when it rains this is toxic to many organisms. How can you not know what that is?"

"Because you did such a good job helping the future, dad."

"Obviously, I didn't do a good job this time," he reflected sadly. Wilbur decided not to touch on the subject. Of course, Lewis was correct as he always seemed to be. He was relieved that Lewis decided not to pursue the subject and solely concentrated on helping him get Carl to safety.

All he knew was that they needed to keep moving forward or they'd be left behind.

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Front Lawn of Robinson Household, April 22nd<strong>_

Frankie the singing frog, Franny's star pupil, patrolled around the Robinson household. Little did most people know, the frog was almost always up to no good. Today, however, was an exception. He ventured around the household in search of his conductor; Franny Robinson's absence was noted.

Band practice was supposed to be an hour ago but no practice could happen without Franny. The usually upbeat, strong, and enthusiastic woman kept dodging her responsibilities. In fact, she was the only one in the family who was on good terms with the Machiavelli empire. Yet, Frankie feared, this recent behavior would have her fall out of favor. She and Cornelius were the only strong strings in a close, intertwined family. It was these two who prevented the incision by the Fates themselves from unraveling the very fabric of their existence. She must get back to her duties under any means necessary. He spotted her sitting near a window still.

"Ah, there's my gal," Frankie sang. He successfully got her attention but when she looked up at him her make up was smeared all over her face. Fresh tears, the culprit, rolled down her forlorn face.

"Ah, geez," Frankie felt his normally cold blood fill with warmth at the sight of his creator sobbing. He could never understand the mammalian bond with their offspring. His parents abandoned him before he even hatched. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he just couldn't. He hopped onto the couch beside her.

"I know I'm late, Frankie, and I'm sorry. I just can't do it today,"

"Ya mean, you're thinking about your boy and our beloved, skittish robot?"

"Yes, I just can't get them out of my head. They just seemed to disappear out of thin air," she could feel the heavy tears continue to endlessly streaming down her face, "I can't help but think what happened to them. They're not coming back."

Frankie leaned on her side and stroked her bare arm.

"Well, Fran. A little fly told me that your boys will be back. Just wait."

"Thank you, Frankie, for trying to cheer me up," she picked him up and gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He was truly her prince in disguise, "that's so sweet of you, but it doesn't seem likely."

She held him against her chest for a much needed hug. Frankie wasn't about to squirm away from the embrace. He knew the hug was more for Franny than himself.

The doorbell then rang, and she jumped off the window still in surprise and fear. It must have been Machiavelli Industries. They were here, once again, to see the progress of her work. She'd fall out of favor like most of the Robinson family already; this time, it would have dire consequences.

She placed Frankie on the window still she had just sat upon. Frankie noted it was damp from her tears. The mother gestured to her face, "I can't answer the door right now. Look at me I'm a mess. You'll have to answer and tell them I'm ill."

The doorbell continued to ring and Franny was trying so hard to not be hysterical. Frankie tried to console her and tell her it would be alright. That and the frog didn't have thumbs and so couldn't open the door. It wasn't working.

Now there was rough knocking but this time a voice accompanied it. "Mom," called a teenager voice, "are you home?"

Her head turned so fast that she made herself dizzy. _Could it be?_

The impatient knocking continued.

"Moooooooooooom," wailed the young voice again. It swore and seemed as if talking to someone else, "the old lady never answers when she is there."

Her eyes lit up and she could feel the tears of happiness, instead of sadness, brimming in her eyes; she almost lost hope. She gathered enough resolve to open the door and she sobbed once again when she saw it was Wilbur. She brought him into her instinctive, motherly gasp.

"Wilbur, oh, where have you been? The patrol bots have been looking for you everywhere. You just disappeared."

"The patrol bots?" His words were slurred as his face was crushed against her chest.

Franny broke her hug, held onto his shoulders, and extended him out so she could better see him. She noted his slightly bloody and bruised body. She paused as she eyed him up and down. Was that _crude oil _all over his clothing?

"What happened to you!?"

"I really wish we'd know Mrs. Robinson," Lewis felt like he was lying and telling the truth at the same time. He certainly didn't have the full story of the timeline, but he didn't want to tell her what had happened only a few hours ago. She already looked distraught. He was concerned a story of their near brush with death would send her over the edge.

"Wilbur, who is your little friend?"

"Him?" Wilbur quickly thought of a lie, "Carl and I got lost and he helped us find our way back home. He has nowhere to go."

"Carl?" she looked past the two boys and saw the heavily damaged Carl slumped on one of the nearby pillars near the entrance of the home. She gasped, "I'm going to have to call the medic."

"Mom," Wilbur said, "how long have we been gone?"

"You both have amnesia too," she noted and she approached the child that accompanied Wilbur. He was around Wilbur's age and had thick spectacles. She could tell he had blonde hair, but it was filthy from what looked like a tough fight. She wouldn't be surprised if he was an abandoned street kid. He instantly reminded her of Cornelius. If they both had another boy, he'd probably look like him.

It was love at first sight.

"By the way," she looked into his eyes, "thank you so much for helping Carl and Wilbur." and then gave him a gentle hug, "welcome to the family." She then touched his nose, "but I didn't quite catch your name?"

"My name is Lew-" the inventor managed to cut himself off at the concerned gasp of Wilbur. His future son dramatically slid his finger across his throat and pretended to play dead behind Franny. He looked up at his future wife shyly and mustered up a benign smile.

"Lew?" she cocked an eyebrow up, "What a unique name. I've never heard of it. I'm sure Cornelius would love to meet you, Lew. He'll be so happy to have all of you back."

"I hate to interrupt this family reunion, but we have work to do," Frankie began to hop toward the music room. Franny reluctantly followed the amphibian.

"But mom, we just came back!" Wilbur protested.

"I have to get to work, honey. We'll all have dinner together with the whole family," She looked at him with a knowing frown, "Just promise to stay out of trouble for me until then. Stay with Carl until the medic arrives, okay?"

It was so hard for her to turn around and leave them behind, but she was way behind on her work. All that mattered was he was safe. Lew seemed to be a good kid. Possibly, the child would keep Wilbur from getting into further trouble.

As she made her way down the hallway, she dialed the medic as promised. They would arrive shortly. Carl was unconscious and in bad shape. Whatever happened to them, it was obvious the android bore most of the onslaught.

She pushed open one of the many doors that strew across the long hallways of the Robinson home. The music room, in all its majesty, greeted her. Frankie had already perched himself on the raised podium on the middle of the stage in the back of the room. All the finely dressed amphibians looked at her expectantly.

Franny went and cleaned her disheveled face with her petite dress. She still probably looked like she went through hell, but it didn't matter anymore. The woman just wanted her gang to master this piece, and she'd be back to spend some needed time with her biological child and surprised visitor.

She was just about to pick up her baton to direct the concert of frogs when she stopped. She looked at Frankie, "Wait, where's Francis?


	11. Mechanical Failure

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

Wilbur couldn't believe his mother left him with such a brief reunion. He glanced at Lewis, now known as Lew, who seemed to be just as confused and misguided as he was.

Before another thought could come to pass, a pained cry pierced the air. It came from behind them.

"Carl!" Wilbur sat down next to him and took the android's hand.

It was as if Carl was trying to reach for them. He clasped the boy's hand and squeezed it tightly. The cold, metallic hand shivered with some type of urgency and anticipation. Wilbur saw his friend was continuing to deteriorate.

_When the hell is medical supposed to arrive?_

Lewis also came down to Carl's level and took the robot's other hand. Carl no longer was able to communicate with them. Lewis, given his massive technical knowledge, could tell that Carl was still consciously aware of his surroundings. Yes, Carl was salvageable but the android was obviously under some internal stress. Lewis could only imagine. He squeezed the android's hand empathetically.

Carl looked into the young inventor's eyes and then his grip loosened.

"Carl?" Wilbur squeaked.

There was no response, and the lively spark in Carl's eyes ceased to be. Lewis let his grip go as he knew Carl went into some type of shutdown. It was no use trying to get the robot to respond.

"No, Carl!" Wilbur instinctively latched onto him. The young man knew Carl was damaged but to see him totally knock out this way was so upsetting. In the pit of his stomach, he felt the twists and turns. It was the churning of imagining his friend would be in this permanent vegetative state.

"Wilbur, get up."

"No way, Lewis. I need to be with him until he's better."

"Don't be stubborn." Lewis said sharply. "Let them through."

_Them?_

Wilbur noticed the area of smelt of sterilization. He stood up with as much dignity as his grief would allow to face the medic bots. Their beady little eyes surveyed the situation. It was almost as if they were analyzing Wilbur more than Carl. The teen let them pass.

The one on the left gently levitated Carl's limp body with some type of levitation ray. Wordlessly, both medic bots went back from whence they came. Wilbur and Lewis tried to follow when the other medic bot blocked their path.

"You are not authorized to enter medical bay." The medic said.

"What do you mean? He's my family!" Wilbur said.

"You are not authorized to enter medical bay." It repeated dully and absolutely. As Wilbur saw his comrade being carried away, the teen wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Why!?"

"The medic bay contains materials that are harmful to organic lifeforms." Was the prompt and automatic response.

"You know what," Wilbur instantly began to seethe, "I think an exception can be made."

"Machiavelli Industries doesn't allow exceptions. All rules are absolute."

"How can I just not come with him?" Wilbur began to move toward them.

"Wilbur, stop arguing." Lewis pleaded and attempted to hold the teenager back, "They'll take care of him."

Lewis needed to get Wilbur to calm down. The genius could see that this particular robot was not just a medic. It was heavily armed and ready to draw the weapon if need be. The inventor was frightened Wilbur would make himself be seen as a threat. With this dystopian future, who knew what hidden dangerous lurked behind every seemingly harmless machine or ally.

Lewis obviously didn't like the situation either. He didn't want to leave Carl alone either as it was obvious something grave happened to their comrade but what choice did they have? Carl couldn't be worse off by going with the medic bots, could he?

A physical struggle between Lewis and Wilbur started.

"But something's not right!" Wilbur knew his instinct was right. Something was horribly wrong. He just knew it.

Lewis, who was obviously not as moved by Wilbur's intuition, tried now to prevent Wilbur from firing his charge glove. He huffed and puffed, but it was blatant Wilbur was far stronger than he. Wilbur successfully began charging his charge ball glove.

"I know what you feel, Wilbur, but Carl is alive still. I have the technical background and see this. He'll survive. They just have to-"

Wilbur didn't listen and raised his hand for the final blow. Lewis grabbed it and pulled it back down. The shot fired at Lewis. The inventor's glasses slid across the floor and Wilbur looked horrified as his future father stumbled and looked shocked from the impact.

"Lewis, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay. I think it is just a scratch." Lewis tried to be optimistic for Wilbur's sake and his own as well. "I can handle that. I got far worse from Lizzy."

The medic bots and the unconscious Carl were far gone by now. Wilbur just had to trust Lewis and them at this point. He couldn't believe he shot his dad. Sure, it wasn't a lethal weapon but he knew from experience that it wasn't pleasant. Knowing the nearsighted Lewis couldn't possibly retrieve his glasses on his own, Wilbur did for him.

Wilbur felt proud of his dad. For a little guy, he surely handled himself well in this dismal and darkened time. He was beginning to see more and more why his dad would succeed in building Robinson Industries and, one day, become his father.

So far in this timeline, Lewis protected him twice from danger and stupid decisions. Like this and Lizzy. Wilbur's eyes went wide as he recalled Lizzy. Lewis shot Lizzy. Lewis was underneath the time machine before then.

"And we forgot the time machine!" Wilbur felt himself becoming somewhat more distraught. For the first time in his life, he felt he would actually faint from distress.

"No," Lewis said as he removed an item from his pocket, "we didn't."


	12. Picture Perfect, Laszlo

_**Author's Note: I got an invite to put this on Archive of Our Own (AO3). O.o' I was not expecting that. **_

_**I'm making chapters faster. They won't be as high quality, but I have so much work to do. I don't have time to make them perfect, but I do have time to make them good. ^_^**_

_**At the end of the story, I'll put the polished version of this story on AO3 and give the link. **_

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

In the gentle boy's hands was a shimmering decahedron. The edges were tinted green, blue, and red while the internal cube was a shiny, immaculate silver. In the reflection of the convoluted device was Wilbur's dumbstruck face.

"What's that?"

"I refer to it as the time drive. And, well, it is an essential component to the time machine. I figured it out back when I was fixing it. While I was under the time machine, I'd figure we'd need to escape, and I quickly took it out."

"You're such a genius! Come here, you!" Wilbur was overcome by affection and started giving him a noogie.

"Wilbur, stop!" Lewis tried to keep his usual, serious face but couldn't help but crack a smile and laugh at his future son's antics.

The boys continued to wrestle into the room with Lewis unsuccessfully trying to break from Wilbur's headlock.

Lewis could feel the static electricity build in his hair from the teenager's rubbing. Satisfied, Wilbur suddenly let go and the inventor's sooted hair stood up on end.

"Wilbur Robinson has accomplished the impossible." The mischievous boy rubbed the dirt off he gained from the inventor's hair and inspected his fingers for cleanliness.

"What?"

"I made your hair spikier."

Wilbur succumbed to a fit of laughter as the other boy anxiously looked at his reflection in a nearby bust. Lewis has vexed by the spectacle that was now his hair and was so shocked he almost knocked the bust from its pillared perch. The blond carefully steadied the bust's abode and then turned to the other boy with a soured look on his face.

"You are so grounded!"

Dodging the inventor's grasp, Wilbur ran and the other chased. They found themselves running away from the entrance hall and into the expansive Robinson living room up the stairs. Like boys do, both played rough. Neither could deny they were laughing with delight at their sudden game of cat-and-mouse.

If a passing elder knew all they went through this morning, one would ask where they got the energy. They were lost in this game. Perhaps there was adrenaline still in their system? Perhaps it was the resilience this two young men had was greater than the average person.

All the two knew was that in these few, temporal moments, they could be themselves and act their age. To relax, they needed to forget the grim world outside these walls. The Robinson home seemed to immerse them in its protective embrace.

This game of tag and wrestle carried on the stars. Lewis almost caught Wilbur, but he easily wiggled himself from his captor. The playing stopped when finally Wilbur paused long enough for Lewis to catch him. Lewis was astounded. He actually caught up to the teenager? He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

Wilbur's gaze was transfixed on something up ahead. Naturally, Lewis followed Wilbur's eyes.

The house looked fairly plain in the entrance of the household and the beginning portion of the expansive living room. Yet, once they entered further into the living room, the house had clearly changed for the worse. The grim world was not just outside. It was inside too.

It was Machiavelli.

Machiavelli everywhere.

A massive portrait of a man sat dominantly as the centerpiece of the room. The first thought that struck Wilbur was the man's pulchritude. Although an older and more refined taste, he rivaled Wilbur in his natural beauty. A sharp angular face with a sturdy looking body. He looked down at those below with a fiery gaze of wild, hazel eyes. He wore a conniving, sharp smile that served only to intimidate onlookers to a complete, mesmerizing submission. Like a fine wine, the man's appearance was one that seemed to better and distinguish with age as earlier portraits shown.

No longer were there any portraits of the family and their antics that ordained the walls. It was something else. Wilbur noticed something eerie and disturbing about all of them. All the pictures were of the family, not as a group or together, but each individually posed with Machiavelli.

The décor of the Robinson household only further venerated Machiavelli and his conquests.

Nothing could mitigate the presence of this man from the household. Why did he have to be absolutely everywhere?

"Where are you going?" Lewis saw that Wilbur suddenly seemed to be a man on a mission.

"We're getting some grub."

Wilbur knew that dinner was going to ready soon, but he was a teenager. He had nothing to eat all day, and he was famished from events earlier in the day. Besides, he needed to escape from the presence of Machiavelli. Wilbur assumed the kitchen wouldn't be nearly as bad.

"Aren't we going to wait until dinner is ready?"

The raven haired boy paid no heed to the wiser. His answer was continuing onward deeper into the Machiavellian infested household. Lewis signed, rolled his eyes, but tagged along.

Frankly, the bespectacled boy was thankful the answer was no. He was famished himself, and he wasn't about to argue if that meant he could have something in his stomach.

Wilbur noticed the architecture and layout of the house remained the same in this timeline. This meant that Machiavelli must have entered the equation only after the Robinson Mansion was built.

The hallways were filled with busts of Machiavelli. All were in different poses and different facial expressions. Compared to the living room, it was tolerable.

Lewis noticed the eyes of the busts sparkled.

_Cameras. _

"Wilbur." Lewis said uncertainly and went closer to him. He had a bad feeling about this. Were they watching them right now? Probably.

"Whoa, calm down, I'm hungry too."

Lewis gave Wilbur an angry look at his sarcastic response but his eyes lit up when they came to a door.

"Welcome to the Cook Brook."

The kitchen they stumbled into was small and humble. It had a theme of a wildlife creek. Underneath their feet, the floor itself, was a glass tank filled with life found in creeks and ponds. The crayfish were genetically altered as they appeared in every color one could possibly imagine. Lewis recognized that this wasn't a main kitchen of the household but rather a side kitchen. It looked more like the kitchen of a break room than anything.

"Have you had the famous Robinson meatloaf yet?" Wilbur asked him.

"No." The young Cornelius's curiosity was aroused.

"Come on, let's make some."

"What do we need?"

"I'll worry about the ingredients, Lew. You just concentrate on getting the stove and oven ready."

Wilbur felt his stomach's acid start to bubble up in an adolescent fury. He began going into the cabinet for some vital ingredients when he noticed the stuffing mix had an odd seal upon it. He took it out of the shelf and analyzed it.

_This again?_

Apparently Machiavelli Industries also controlled all the produce and food creation. Their logo was on everything.

"This is getting beyond ridiculous." Lewis pulled out a stirring spoon whose handle was a face of the recently risen dictator.

"Okay," Wilbur clearly looked disturbed now but regained his composure, "but let's not let that um, dissuade us." He cleared his throat, "Trust me, Lew. You'll love it."

"Even with all the differences from the old home to this home, we can still make the best of it." He went to open the fridge to get the other ingredients, "We just to keep moving forward. It is your motto after all, dad."

_That's easy for you to say. _

Lewis was confused by the futuristic stove; in particular, what to set the temperature as and how.

"Hey, so what's with the-"

Wilbur gasped, shrunk back, and Lewis followed. Out of the fridge Wilbur had just opened was a man with red hair, goggles, and a ray of some sort that clearly was loaded with an assortment of colors. On top of his head was half hat and half helicopter which allowed for the man to fly. It was Laszlo. He loomed ominously over the boys with the most peculiar expression on his face.

"I couldn't help but hear you two say," he whispered seriously, "you've noticed the future has changed?"

"Yes?" Lewis squeaked uncertainly at the aggressively poised question.

The artist let out a nasally laugh and in an equally nasally voice said. "Me too! So, I'm not crazy after all! Or rather, I'm not crazier than I am already."

"You didn't forget either." Wilbur was relieved there was at least one person in the family who was with them. Even if he just came out of a fridge.

"No, I didn't for some reason. I made an educated guess that it is this nifty thing-a-ma-jog." The talented yet eccentric artist pointed at a shiny object that was strapped around his waist.

"The time lock belt," Wilbur considered it, "not only does it prevent people from disappearing but it also lets the wearer keep their memories from their original timeline."

"Righty-o, Cherie-o. Although, it seems that regardless of the belt, you'd still exist in this particular timeline. Lucky you."

"So I have to be stuck wearing this ugly thing?"

"Guess so!"

Wilbur groaned.

Laszlo directed his attention to Lewis and smiled a warm, zany smile. Even though Laszlo's eyes were hidden behind thick, fashionable goggles, there was enough expression elsewhere for Lewis to tell the young artist was very excited to see him.

"Hey, I recognize you! It is really good to see you, kid Cornelius." He landed and vigorously shook the inventor's hand. "It has been a week and you haven't been home even one, measly time."

"Why?"

"I haven't been able to get around to snooping for the reason why."

"Cornelius is known as Lew now." Wilbur said. "Thought you should know."

"I'll keep it in mind." He then began to fly away. "I wish I could spent more time talking with you, Lew, but I-"

Laszlo stopped mid flight when he noticed the dejected face that little Cornelius put on seeing him go. The inventor tried to hide it, but Cornelius was an open book that way. He wasn't any different as a child in this regard.

How did Cornelius get here? Where was Carl? Didn't Wilbur learn from last time? The questions swirled in his mind like the colors of a surreal painting. No, Laszlo suspected something more sinister was happening. Both parties has so many questions for each other.

The artist really should be working on the newest portrait of Machiavelli. He already was late from his five minute lunch break. Yet he just couldn't leave the young version of Cornelius here. He had just been reunited with them; the flying man had been so lonely for the past week. There were no other people who seemed to remember the good times like himself. He thought he'd gone loony. That is, even more loony than usual for a Robinson.

He made his decision.

Machiavelli had enough portraits of himself to go around and then some.

The Robinson family was always there for each other in times of need. And, to Laszlo, it seemed the boys needed a guide. Someone to help get them situated to adapt to the darker world they had stumbled into.

"Lew, how about we take you to see Bud and Lucille?"

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_

_**Hello, everyone. I decided to study for the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) by incorporating some of the common words found in the GRE into this story. **_

_**These words will be underlined. You can use these words to study for the SAT too for those who are thinking of applying to college soon.**_


	13. Family Tour

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Slightly Past the Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

The soft whirl of the tracks of the tram whizzed in Lewis' ears. The tram was small and armored by white, plastic that had a futuristic shine to it. With its black leather seats, it could comfortably sit around four people. Even though it wasn't the impressive train he saw during his last visit, the young inventor still found himself bewildered about what would become of Bud and Lucille's home.

Maybe what bewildered him more was why; the Robinson Mansion was so massive it needed its own mode of transportation to travel the unique home. They were well on their way to get to Lucille and Bud. Or, Lewis had doubts based on the massiveness of the home, the young intellectual hoped so.

"Are we there yet?" Wilbur whined the age-old question that wrought constant annoyance to travelers everywhere.

Laszlo chided Wilbur's impatience and the teen resented Laszlo's forgetfulness of what it was like to have the ravenous appetite of a teenage boy.

"Only two minutes, Wilbur, since we left. As a time traveler you should know the value of patience. Now hush, I'm the tour guide."

Wilbur leaned his head upon his hand and looked at man skeptically. "You're giving us the tour?"

"I know that's usually your job, Mr. Extroverted, but just sit back and enjoy the show."

On cue, Laszlo began digging into the pockets of his trench coat until he pulled out a small object about the size of a pin. Both boys instantly recognized it as a miniature loudspeaker. Lewis never saw one that small before and found himself curious about how it worked. But the curious blond was disappointed to see the painter was having some technical difficulties.

"I'm waiting." Wilbur mockingly sang through a chided smile. Lewis responded to the sarcastic teen's taunts with a rough elbow his side.

"Thanks, Lew." Laszlo cleared his throat and began to speak through the portable loudspeaker.

_Besides the distasteful artifacts and aesthetic taste of a dictator littered throughout the home, Anderson Mansion's layout has been relatively unchanged from our original timeline. To get to Bud and Lucille, we are taking Route 3, stopping briefly for an errand, and then taking Route 5. So far, we've passed by the following rooms- _

Wilbur, already knowing Laszlo's words were more for Lewis than himself, started to tune him out. He was lost in his thoughts. He was more snappy than usual due to his hunger, but he could manage.

That was, until a sharp whistle pierced the air and stabbed the ears of the trio.

With an annoyance that only a teenager could muster, Wilbur sighed and looked to see what was causing the commotion behind their tiny locomotive.

His mouth dropped in surprise as he saw two, lanky men with sunglasses, madly blowing whistles, catching up to them.

"They're not at the doorbell." The young man said in astonishment.

"Spike and Dimitri are now security guards. Stay in the back you two. I'll talk to them." Laszlo demanded as he stopped the tram. Laszlo could not risk Spike and Dimitri possibly recognizing them. Especially young Cornelius. There could be serious repercussions, and he had no idea what this Machiavelli fellow would do to the young inventor.

_Play it cool._

He stopped the tram and, with the acting of a professional, he remained as calm and collected as possible.

"Hello, officers, what seems to be the problem?"

"Laszlo, I see you are leaving the job early today." One of the infamous siblings said as he lifted the artist's goggles and shined a light through his exposed eyes. Laszlo rubbed his irritated peppers and faced his harassers.

"What, is that a crime?"

"Yes!" Both said in unison.

"What are you going to do? Arrest me?"

"Yes!"

And with that, Laszlo was roughly pulled from the tram and slammed roughly into the side of it. His scrunched up face looked up pathetically under the rough grasp of the two twins. He knew the two were serious about their mindless jobs but this was ridiculous. But, unlike the original timeline, they now were not just an annoyance. They were downright cruel. The artist was shocked at how quickly the situation escalated and found the fight was drained out of him.

The artist hadn't been in trouble so far since he found himself in this forsaken timeline, so this experience was new to him. Before he could gather his wits, they roughly hoisted him up.

"Let go of me!" the ginger cried as he felt his restrained fingers being crushed underneath Dimitri's grasp. "Police brutality!"

"Hey, leave my cousin alone!"

"Wilbur, no, stay in the back!" Laszlo gasped in concern. He knew the kid didn't stand a chance against these two.

Before Wilbur could make any of his moves, Spike immediately managed to go past his blind spot and nab him.

"Wilbur, you're on our side." Spike started and then pulled the young man up by his arm to more easily make eye-to-eye contact. "A week of absence made you a little more feisty than usual, I see."

Wilbur found himself physically drained from the same tactic used on Laszlo. Even though he seemed to be under control, Spike knew Wilbur had some professional martial arts training and went to get his cuffs from his pocket. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"Hold on, I will do the honors." Dimitri stopped the other, "I need to meet quota."

"Funny, I also need to meet quota."

"Take my handcuffs." Dimitri and pleaded to Wilbur.

"No, take my handcuffs." The other twin interrupted and pushed the other away. A spat began and they fought over which would do the Machiavelli honor, leaving their prisoners, drained, but free.

Lazlo whispered to his fellow prisoner, "Would it be wrong if I told you that I think this is an improvement?"

"Proposal." Spike said.

"I'm listening." Dimitri respected the temporary truce.

"I arrest one and you arrest the other."

"That would be a lovely proposal if it weren't for the fact it won't work."

"Why?"

"There's a third one in the back."

Lewis found himself futilely retreating further into his hiding spot at Dimitri's observation.

Spike sucked in his breath through gritted teeth. "You're right."

There was a pause and then the twins started to resume beseeching the passengers to take their respective handcuffs.

Laszlo and Wilbur had already escaped back into the tram and the driver started the vehicle again in hopes of having an escape. He didn't want to be arrested by these two numbskulls. The twins, undeterred, followed the trio's vehicle with their mindless insistences.

"I was afraid of this." Lazlo flew right above the tram, did a dramatic loop, and pointed, "Look, someone is breaking section 405!"

"Section 405?"

"Brother, it is obviously a distraction." One twin warned.

"Section 405 has more precedence than a break of section 201."

"Correct."

"Risk it?"

"And tell Machiavelli if we're wrong?"

"Of course not."

The couple turned the other direction and whizzed the opposite direction. Wilbur and Lewis looked at each other in puzzlement and the smaller asked, "Section 405?"

"You don't want to know." Laszlo plopped himself back into the driver's seat. "Okay, so that's those two. Let's see who else we come across on the way."

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

"This is tram central. This room, out of all of them, is the one that hasn't changed that much."

"How come?" Wilbur asked.

"Come on, Willie, this is Aunt Billie's domain."

"Right."

Lewis had never been in this part of the house before during his last visit. In the far side of the room he saw Aunt Billie standing motionless in the middle of the room.

"Aunt Billie helps keep Machiavelli industries modes of transportation running, Lew. She used to do the same for Robinson Industries."

"Look at me!" Her voice strained as she wailed to seemingly no one. "My passion has been ripped from me!"

"What's wrong with her?" The blond inquired at the more knowledgeable Laszlo.

"Machiavelli prefers trams than trains which has left her in a depression."

She glared menacingly at the small vehicle as it came further into the large, expansive room. Her face turned from despondence to anger at the sight of the Laszlo on the incoming tram. "Curse you young people and your trams!" She shook her fist in the air and shouted. "All they are is puny train-wannabes!"

"I love you too, Aunt Billie." Wilbur said and craned his neck from the back seat. When he made eye contact, he flashed her his characteristic, sly smile.

"Wilbur?" She stopped shaking her fist, eyes wide with astonishment, when she realized he was there. "You're back!?"

Her heart quivered inside her chest at the excitement of seeing that the lost one had returned. She ran after them to make sure.

"Wait, Laszlo, stop! I want to say high to my refound nephew!"

"Sorry, Aunt Billie, the tram doesn't have the option to stop right now. Toddle-loo!" The eldest male sang as they exited the room through tunnel eight.

She stood at the tracks as they drove out of the room and dramatically fell on her knees as they left the station.

"Curse you, trams!"

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

Laszlo knew that Aunt Billie wouldn't take kindly to being stood up, but she would have plenty of opportunity to catch up during dinner.

They were now travelling alongside on the many, long hallways of the Robinson household at a brisk pace. Lewis was overwhelmed by the amount of unopened and unexplored doors of the Robinson home that zoomed by that lined the narrow corridor. Maybe he would have a chance to explore them after dinner time with Wilbur?

The lights dimmed and the blond heard the sound of metallic clanking up ahead.

"Wait, what's that up ahead?"

"Lefty." Wilbur answered but was confused, "But he's usually near the door."

"Not anymore," Laszlo started to explain, "Lefty has been promoted from beloved family butler to Machiavelli's prime spy. As you know, Wilbur, Art brought him from another planet during one of his intergalactic pizza delivery trips."

The purple extraterrestrial stared at the passing tram longer than what Laszlo felt comfortable with, but it left them be. It used its long tentacles to swing itself from chandelier to chandelier to continue observing the household. Fortunately, young Cornelius, with his filth covered hair, seemed to make him unrecognizable to the creature.

"Yeah, so what about Uncle Art?" Lefty reminded Wilbur of his favorite uncle. "Does he still work for the delivery company?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Unfortunate? He loves his spacy job. Nos no comprendes?"

"Your Spanish skills need work, buddy." Laszlo sighed and shook his head. He didn't have the heart to tell them why it was unfortunate in this timeline. The time would come later.

"What about the rest of the family?" Wilbur asked.

"Well, I can't figure out where my dad is or my mother Petunia. I'm guessing they took the car but at least dad was supposed to come back."

"What about grandpa's brother Joe?"

"Joe still has the same occupation of couch potato extraordinaire. The only reason being is that Machiavelli has no issue with complacent, coach potatoes."

"We meet her briefly but what about Franny?" If Lewis was going to ask about one family member, it would undoubtedly be her. After all, she would be the love of his life.

"Franny and her frogs are doing alright. They're only allowed to perform in public, on rare occasions, with the permission of Machiavelli Industries. The patent to the frogs belongs to them."

"Dark day in the Robinson household." Wilbur felt a pang of guilt that they managed to escape with their memories intact. He knew how much his mother cherished the musical abilities of her frogs.

They went into a tunnel when they suddenly were almost catapulted from their seats. Disoriented, the passengers got back up from where they found themselves spilt over.

"Hey, the tram is stuck!" Laszlo played around the lever. He peered over the edge to the tracks; the wheels were locked onto the rails.

"What did you do? You should have let me drive!" Wilbur groaned.

"I didn't do anything, numskull! The tram isn't supposed to stop mid-route like this!"

"Do you think someone found out we're from a different timeline?" Lewis was deeply concerned. What would happen to the future if he, in particular, was found out?

"Crud, I didn't think Lefty would figure it out so quickly." The artist swore somewhat as he tried to somehow get to get the traction going.

From the entrance of the tunnel behind them, they heard footsteps.

"Lew, we got to hide you!"

"That will not be necessary," A calm voice said and a calm, dapper amphibian hopped onto the back of the tram. "Hello boys, long time no see."

"I thought you were in band practice?" Laszlo narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the amphibian.

"Lesson has just been called for me a few minutes ago." Frankie never lost his placid demeanor.

"Oh." The flying painter would have been satisfied with answer if it weren't for the fact about Frankie's history. Was he a loyal frog who loved the family? Yes. Was he a squeaky clean frog? No. No matter what the timeline, Frankie was always up to no good.

"I need to talk to the boys is all. You can relax." He then turned toward the people he wanted to talk to, "As you are aware, I sent a rescue pod to retrieve you two." He pointed at the boys and gestured them to come closer. "Listen, don't tell the rest of the family yet, but I lost some good frogs to help get you home."

"What happened to them?" Wilbur dared to ask.

"They croaked."

The mood became more serious than ever before. Lewis and Wilbur were terrified to know loved ones were put on the line to help them. Lewis, being the more sensitive one, was comforted by a hand on the shoulder by the elder Laszlo.

"Look boys, I am also aware of the changes that have happened and so is my squad. We all wore timebelts like Laszlo at the time the timeline changed."

"Frankie," Lewis started, "what happened?"

"To put it shortly, I don't know the whole story. Cornelius, listen carefully, we don't even know what happened to _you_. I'm just here to let you two boys know what happened to the time machine."

"Well, I just want to know when I'll be fed." Wilbur was beginning to become insufferable.

"Well, I'm fed up," Laszlo grabbed the teen's ear, "Now, sush!"

"Thanks, Laszlo. Before Francis and the others were captured, they shared with me that they confirmed Lizzy destroyed the time machine vehicle out of spite. There was no indication she knew what it was."

"Don't worry, I got the time drive. Given time, I can probably make a new time machine and help get us back on track."

"I know. Good thinking, Lew. I didn't get my own brains from nothin'. But we can't stay here and talk for long." He put on a pleasant grin. "If we are out of view for too long then the Machiavelli security and Lefty the spy will be suspicious. I will let you go on your merry way."

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household Grand Entrance, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

"Young Cornelius," Laszlo analyzed the young boy as he helped him up from the tram, "you need to keep a low profile. My sister should be able to help you with that. Tallulah is a hairdresser for the best and brightest of Machiavelli industries. She's also the biggest pain-or-ieno in my hide."

When they entered, Tallulah was obviously in a hurry. She carried various cloths and plans as the fashionista busied herself in her trade. When she heard the door open and saw Laszlo, she dropped her things and narrowed her eyes at her brother.

"Laszlo," she shook her finger at her sibling, "you should be at work right now. You could get us all in trouble!"

"Lighten up, sis." Laszlo sighed and stepped aside, "Look who I ran into during my lunch break."

The girl let out a delightful squeal and seized Wilbur, "I missed you so much, Wilby! My little man!"

"This is my friend, Lew." Wilbur desperately tried to detach himself from her in fear he would fuse into her. "He helped me get back here in one piece. He's joining us for dinner."

"Welcome to the family, L-." But when seeing him in full view, the girl scrunched up her face,

"Hun," she paused as she twirled the pathetic spectacle that was the kid's hair, "you desperately need a new look. We can't let you go to dinner like that. Time for a make over!"

_**= = = _/_o _\_ = = =**_  
><em><strong>Year: 2037, Robinson Household The Grandparent's Grand Room, April 22<strong>__**nd**_

"Didn't I tell you Tallulah was the best?" They all started headed toward a massive door near Tallulah's workshop. "You look very dapper, Lew."

"Very nice." Wilbur said dismissingly.

"You're jealous of Lew, admit it."

"Jealous of what?"

"It even rivals your hair."

"I doubt it."

A loud rumbling echoed throughout the household and it seemed to be coming from up ahead. Wilbur instantly darted up ahead on full alert.

"Wilbur wait, I don't think that's a good-" Lewis stopped when Laszlo started to reassuringly guide Lewis to where the elder boy scurried off to.

"Oh, yes." Laszlo cleared his throat as they went around the corner, "Now here is our beloved grandmother Lucille. She is a retired scientist. She was let go from InventCo for differing opinions on the direction the company was going under Machiavelli.

The odd spectacle of Wilbur's grandmother throwing cookies against the walls and, not only that, but having the cookies explode on contact made Lewis especially concerned.

"Why is she doing that?"

"She is now under house arrest, but she's always trying to bake her way to freedom."

She cleaned off her dress and scurried over to Laszlo with Bud closely following her. It was obvious that he was having a hard time keeping up with her. "Drat, I thought that recipe I learned in graduate school would work this time, Laszlo."

The redhead was amazed by her ingenuity. By disguising her weapons as cookies, she was able to take it past Machiavellian security into her and Bud's room. "Why not try the door?"

"Two words; Spike and Dimitri."

Laszlo rubbed his neck, bruised courtesy of the two. "Sounds about right."

"Wilbur's back! Hello sonny," but she stopped when she saw Lewis and pinched the child's chubby cheeks, "And you brought the most adorable, little friend with you."

"Nice to meet you too? My name is Lew."

"Well hey there, Lew." Bud seemed very happy to see another family member. "Nice haircut!"

Lewis would definitely take that over _fruithead _any day.

"_Hello, everyone. This is the head of house Franny Robinson on the speaker announcing an early family dinner. Please come as soon as possible. I have a big surprise for all of you!"_

Laszlo did a couple of flips with excitement. This meant he didn't have to work for the rest of the day. Would there be repercussions for him playing hookie today? Definitely. But that didn't matter. He hated to say this as a person of the arts but his craft didn't matter to him anymore. Not in this timelime. He pushed the briefly united family back to the tram. It would be a tight fit but that wouldn't matter.

All were vivid with hunger and excitement as they all got comfortable for the long trek to the dining room. Lewis became jealous of the embrace his past parents gave to Wilbur. They obviously missed their only grandchild. It was so difficult for him to not attempt to join their group hug, but he couldn't risk them recognizing him. He sat in solitude on the cold corner seat of the tram, only his misery to keep him company, to their next destination.

Dinner was about to start at the Robinson house.


End file.
